


Warmth

by JadedPandaGirl



Series: Witchy Bussiness [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Awkwardness, Consensual Underage Sex, Dorky Sex, Erotica, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Horny Teenagers, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Original Character(s), Sex, Sharing a Bed, Some angst, Teenagers, awkward teenagers, just give this panda her cheese award
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedPandaGirl/pseuds/JadedPandaGirl
Summary: Dante and Tess are not typical awkward teenagers. One's a half-demon and the other is a witch. But oh, are they ever awkward. And snarky. It was a mistake to let them have the house to themselves for several days. With an impending snowstorm bearing down on the city. Cold really does have this wonderful ability to bring people together.Set during Frail Equilibrium. Kind of.This is my 2017 Christmas present to the DMC fandom: a trip down sin lane. Happy Holidays, sinners.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scribblewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribblewrites/gifts).



> In this chapter, Dante has some impure thoughts about cake.

One thing Dante would easily admit to being the bane of his existence – even above and beyond demons – was boredom. Boredom made him feel restless, itching for something to do and trying not to crawl out of his skin. Boredom offended his unnatural vitality and every single demonic instinct he had to put up with. Demons don’t like sitting around doing nothing, they like fighting and beating up things that are unworthy and conquering territory and foes – but all that could be boring in and of themselves. Dante just wanted something to do, a little challenge to keep him occupied.

When he got a bit older it wasn’t so bad, he cultivated some laziness to counter-act that restlessness for a while. But when he was a teenager, it truly was a headache and the reason he was more or less a vagrant. Either he ran out of trouble to get into, or he ran out of places to stay in that were dirt cheap enough for a teenager like him to afford. Sometimes he unintentionally (mostly) caused such places irreparable damage. He’d spent a few nights sleeping under bridges and worse places.

He tried to never get attached.

But ever since finding himself in this boarding house… well, it was hard not to claim he didn’t love his bed, for instance. It was nice and big, the mattress welcoming, the pillow inviting every time, and best of all: clean, fresh sheets whenever he wanted from the communal linen closet in the hallway.

Few things could rouse him from the comfortable state of lazy sleep in the morning but none did it more effectively than hunger. And Dante was never one to deny his stomach its nourishment. He was a growing half-demon, after all.

He rolled out of bed with a loud, shameless yawn and stretched luxuriously. It certainly felt good not needing to sleep with one eye open, so to speak, or with his hand on his gun. He slipped into some trousers and a shirt and strolled out of the two-room ‘dorm’ he was renting out. Dante counted himself lucky; he had never before found such a good deal for bed and board. There was no catch, either. The people he shared space with were decent… and there was always some trouble to get into to keep him occupied.

Of course, in those days he’d been the only lodger, so maybe that had factored in.

Sure, the landlady, Magda, was as old as the hills (in his eyes, at least, the woman had been just over 60) and very uptight and severe. You could call her an old witch just for her personality… and ironically, she _was._ Dante’d always found that funny, that of all the boarding houses in all the cities, he walked into one run by a witch. She didn’t entirely approve of him being there and she made no secret about it, in her sharp, deadpan way. But for reasons he never quite understood, she let him live under her roof. Dante, for his part, kept out of her way; old she may have been but weak she certainly was not and Dante didn’t feel like testing her. He liked poking demons but an indomitable old lady like her? No, thank you.

He much preferred Roy, the family familiar, day-to-day manager and maintenance guy of the boarding house. Now, Dante was still a bit perplexed by him because although he fancied himself pretty experienced at sensing unnatural beings around him, he never could really tell that Roy had been such until it stared him in the face. Maybe being a desert djinn was just too far out for Dante to comprehend but he liked the guy. Roy was a little gruff and snarky, but he was fair, understanding and even kind in a quiet way. Wasn’t bad talking to him, either; he was older than he looked and knew things that had hardly crossed Dante’s mind at the time, both about combat and life in general. It was almost like having a cool old uncle to trade stories with and pick up advice from.

And then there was Tess.

She was Magda’s granddaughter and a witch. Must have been around sixteen or seventeen at the time, like him, but because he was way taller and bigger than her, she seemed so small by comparison. He liked to think that he didn’t have much to say about her but she was probably the first person his age that had spent any amount of time around him without finding him unnatural.

She was a skinny girl with pale, freckled skin, deep red hair and green eyes. Now, this combination normally heralded descriptions of great beauty but Dante just never thought of her like that. She was fearless and he liked that but she was also stubborn, very opinionated and never afraid to give him shit when she was angry at him. They would bicker a lot, pretty viciously too, like crows over a carcass. They were both snarky and always had some barb ready for each other. Roy got tired of their bickering and usually either hightailed it out of the room, or outright told them to shut up.

Dante always suspected that the reason they got so gnarly with each other was, simply put, honesty.

In the past, Dante made quite an effort to keep his half-demon nature out of sight of most people. It wasn’t that he was ashamed or anything but it was just so much _less_ complicated. It was a pain to keep pretending all the time, always being so careful not to let anything slip and play off any mistakes with perfectly rehearsed excuses. He rarely even used his real name.

All that changed when he set foot into the boarding house. They all knew, almost the moment they were near him just like he had suspected they were not normal people. Tess knew the moment she saw him and after a few days, they outed each other pretty bluntly. Her perplexing second sight would always end up outing secrets even when she didn’t want them.

But in a way, it was extremely liberating. Tess didn’t care who and what he was. She found him irritating and was never shy about telling him. They both relaxed into being more open about the realities of their life. And with nothing important to hide it was easy to take potshots at each other. In a sense, Dante relished having someone who could make stupid jokes about his half-demon nature just because they could. It felt… normal. Most of the time, they didn’t _really_ mean what they said, anyway, and could laugh off most of the zings but sometimes… one or the other went too far and heads started to roll – figuratively.

But it brought him a sense of peace, knowing that he didn’t have anything to hide in this house. And maybe even that he had some _friends_ for once.

After a quick shower in the communal bathroom, Dante thumped down the stairs with a microwave dinner, headed for the common room. Too late for breakfast, he thought he’d have some lunch and then maybe head out to find some trouble. There should be some to be had; the city was having quite the demon infestation at the time. The house itself was well-warded and protected, fortunately, making it a pretty good home base.

He yawned viciously again, barely covering his mouth with his fist as he walked into the large space that functioned as both living-room and kitchen for the lodgers of the boarding house. He heard the coffee pot humming quietly, a sure sign that someone was brewing coffee and he smelled cooking.

Surely enough, Tess was sitting at the large table, slouched and flipping through a magazine, eating a neatly sliced sandwich and drinking a cup of coffee.

She barely looked up at him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he replied in similar tone and made a beeline to the microwave.

This was actually their common morning ritual now, after the initial snarky teasing that they had started out with. Sometimes they might fall into another bickering match when one or the other was feeling cranky, but that morning Dante just yawned again as he set the microwave and Tess just flipped another page of her magazine slowly.

While waiting, Dante leaned against the kitchen counter and stared out the window, tapping his foot slowly. He raised an eyebrow, seeing a thin carpet of snow and slush covering the street outside and a bit of a fug coming from the exhausts of passing cars and the frosting breath of a lone passerby.

“We’re getting’ snow already?” he muttered.

“It _is_ November…” she sighed.

He frowned briefly. “Think it’s got anything to do with Chern-the-butter?”

Ah yes, Chernobog. The two of them had only gone looking for trouble together – of course they had, it was inevitable, really – and had stumbled onto a great demon of ice and darkness. Outnumbered by a horde of Bloodgoyles and the demon’s superior power at the time, they had fled thanks to a timely intervention by Roy.

“No idea,” she confessed. “Roy said he scoured the park after he brought us home and there was no sign of him. He might be gone for good.”

“Hmph, doubt it but I dunno if he’d just settle for powder snow if wasn’t,” he sighed.

“The radio did say we have a snow-storm coming in.”

“Great…”

Just after Dante reset the microwave for a second nuke, Roy walked in from the lobby with a slow step, rubbing the back of his neck and yawning. He rolled back the sleeves of his plaid shirt and made a beeline for the coffee machine. Dante couldn’t help but think of an old soldier whenever he saw Roy’s human form, a healthy middle-aged man with grizzled hair.

“Tess, Magda wants to see you,” he huffed, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Then he pulled a chair and sat down at the table heavily with a grunt.

Tess groaned. “Oh great…” she mumbled. “She’s going to that funeral after all? When the city’s like this?”

Roy grimaced and took a gulp of coffee. “How do you know that?” he groused. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know, just… just go see her.”

Tess shrugged sharply and carried on eating. “I’ll go as soon as I finish,” she said firmly.

“What’s that about?” Dante asked, looking at the microwave’s timer impatiently.

Roy grunted. “Magda needs to attend a meeting of her coven out of town. A funeral’s involved. I need to go with her, so you and Tess are gonna be on your own for a day or two.”

“I bet she just wants to list off the usual spiel. I know the drill by now,” Tess huffed. “Boarding house is closed until you get back, do the basic maintenance for the wards, don’t leave the house unless it’s for groceries, yadda, yadda…”

Then she stared at Roy with a magnificently deadpan expression and continued: “Oh and then I bet _you_ ’ll want to remind me of the usual: keep the numbers of anyone that calls, don’t overwork the wonky water heater, make sure the laundry doesn’t mold up, take the trash out every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and don’t set the place on fire.”

Roy grimaced a little at her while Dante stifled a snicker. “Yes, well…” he muttered. “I suppose you know how to run the place by now. Still, both you remember to lock the doors, alright? The wards can deal with demons and so on but human burglars are another matter.”

“Yeah, got it,” Dante said, retrieving his meal from the microwave. “You guys sure the wards or whatever are gonna be fine? We still don’t know what happened with Chern-whatever.”

Roy snorted and massaged his temples. “To be perfectly honest no, I’m not at all confident it’s a good idea to leave the place like this,” he admitted. “But Magda’s pretty determined and it’d be best not to give her coven reason to talk. Our wards are pretty sturdy and I know you’re careful not to drag anything back with you when you’re out, but do me a little favor and take a break from your little hunting trips till we get back.”

Dante scowled a little at the old man. “Yeah, whatever. I’m not dumb old man, we’ll be fine,” he scoffed.

As much as he liked Roy, sometimes he got a bit fed up with the old man’s cautiousness and the fact that sometimes he thought Dante was a bit too reckless. As if he’d ever be so dumb as to allow something to follow him back to the house.

He drew a chair and sat heavily in the chair to eat. “I’m surprised you’re not giving _me_ a lecture about being alone with Tess.”

Tess snorted. “Oh I bet that was his next line,” she said with a smirk. “He’s worried you’ll try to do something awful to me.”

Dante smiled cheekily at her. “Sure, it’s in my agenda, between cleaning my guns and goin’ out to look for ghoulies. 6:30: don’t forget to ravish the Twig.”

They both looked at Roy for the desired result: a sour expression and thin lips as his brows creased together. They snickered and Roy looked away with a grunt. He knew they were pulling his leg.

Tess finally got up and deposited her dishes into the sink for later. “Well, better go get the lecture over with,” she sighed and shuffled out the room.

Roy followed her with his gaze as she left and then favored Dante with a rather intense stare over his mug. Dante, trying to eat, responded with an exasperated eye-roll. “We’re kidding, obviously,” he snapped. “I got better things and _people_ to do.”

Roy said nothing and just drained his mug. He got up and walked out, only stopping at the kitchen door.

“Still… hurt her and, Sparda’s brat or not, I’ll hurt _you_ ,” he said, perfectly calmly with his usual hint of British accent and for a tiny second there, Dante actually stopped eating and stared at the back of Roy’s neck, keenly aware that the familiar meant every word.

Then he laughed because honestly, this was too good. Him and the Twig? Really?

_Ain’t gonna happen._

Magda and Roy departed the next day around midday. Dante missed their departure because after waking up he decided to go out and see if he could any traces of Chernobog that Roy might’ve missed – he doubted that Magda wanted to see his face as she left, anyway. His hunt came up empty and he just regretted bothering; half-demon or no, this weather was turning bullshit. More snow was piling up and the wind was pretty nasty. When he returned to the boarding house, Dante was keenly aware of how quiet it had gotten. He’d become accustomed to the random noises of the house, like the sound of the radio coming from Magda’s quarters on the ground floor or Roy going about his work around the house – he always seemed to be fixing this or that – or just sitting at his desk in the lobby, reading and sipping on his favorite tangerine liquor.

Dante heard nothing from the common room and went upstairs to change. When he returned he found that Tess had left a note on the fridge for him, saying she’d gone to get groceries because the weather was getting worse. He looked outside and winced with mild guilt, wishing she’d waited for him. Tess didn’t handle the cold very well, being a witch with an affinity for fire. He had to eat too, after all, and he didn’t want to rely on mooching off all the time, even if food was included with the rent.

But something smelled really nice in the kitchen. He smelled chocolate and cherries and he instantly knew Tess had made a cake. He smiled a bit and lifted the metal lid off the cake box. This was probably the most amusing and endearing thing about Tess. Whenever she got particularly upset she would stay up late at night and bake to vent. When he’d first caught her doing so, she was baking a chocolate and cherry cake because he had pissed her off.

He assumed that this time it had been something Magda had done. Tess and her grandmother didn’t have the best of relationships. As soon as he lifted the lid, the smell of the frosted cake hit him and his mouth watered. A slice was already missing and he was happy to cut himself a generous piece. He grinned, remembering just what Tess called this little creation: _Hate Cake_ , playing off the fact she was usually in a bad mood when making them.

He also swiped a soda from the fridge; he liked this arrangement of the house: The fridge and kitchen was open to all lodgers (marked containers aside, obviously) as long as they pitched in with the expenses. Dante had claimed a shelf and it was well-stocked with drinks and other goodies.

With his food in hand, he parked himself on the couch and flicked on the TV. The first bite of cake made him hum indulgently. He could poke fun at her habit all he liked but he’d never deny that Tess had a talent in baking. The cake was a moist, cherry-studded load of chocolate love.

And then the second bite went down a little slower because he also had to remember that the first time he tried this cake he’d also done something unbearably stupid: seeing her irritable, he wanted to poke her further and cheekily nabbed a kiss from her out of the blue – notably, her _first_ kiss.

Looking back, of course she’d be mad. Of course she’d punch him out.

He smiled wryly and finished the cake.

That stolen kiss had tasted of chocolate and cherries.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather violent chapter. My apologies.

Tess regretted not waiting for Dante to get back from whatever little venture he’d gone out for. She could’ve used his help or at least some company for this stupid little excursion to the store. The snow had gotten worse overnight and the streets were covered in a filthy slush while the pavements were packed with a mix of compacted, iced and powdered snow that made them hard to navigate. The sky was heavy with clouds and everything heralded a nasty snow storm on the horizon. She trudged back to the front door of the boarding house carrying a large paper bag of groceries – who knew whether the stores would stay open with this weather?

She tugged at her jacket’s lapels, pulling them close around her neck to further shield herself from the biting cold. Even with the thick scarf and heavy pea-coat she was still shivering and couldn’t wait to get home and change out of her damp jeans. It was going to be another miserable winter this year. She fumbled with her keys at the front door and jostled in, shutting the door behind her with her elbow. She heard the TV on in the common room and huffed, removing her coat and scarf at the hall before carrying the bag to the kitchen.

The TV was running some dumb show and she saw Dante lying on the couch, fast asleep. He looked stupid and she chuckled a bit; his mouth hung half open and he almost snored, making a funny little noise every time he breathed. Amazing how he seemed able to snooze with the racket from the TV. He’d eaten some cake, evidently, judging by the small crumb-decked plate he’d left on the coffee table. Perhaps she should’ve stayed angrier at him about what he’d done the first time she let him have some of that stupid cake.

Thinking of that made her feel irritated and the obnoxious show on the TV didn’t help. She stowed some canned tomatoes away and went over to find the remote and turn it off. A brief search turned up only its absence and she supposed he must’ve been lying on it.

Grumbling a bit, she bent over him in hopes that it might’ve just been wedged between him and the back of the couch, or something, and she could just pluck it out without waking him up. Waking him up meant dealing with him and she was too irritated for that.

 _Does he really need to be so big,_ she thought. _We’re supposed to be the same age, why is he so damn tall?_

She then berated herself because her face felt a little warm. That had better be because of the cold, she told herself, and not because Dante looked oddly endearing in his sleeping, disheveled state.

The grating voice of the talk show on TV got to her nerves and she resumed her search. The remote was nowhere to be seen and she fumbled around, pulling aside one of the throw pillows. Dante grunted something lowly and she assumed that meant he’d woken up anyway.

She decided to deal with him anyway. “Hey, dipshit, where’s the remo—“

Dante blurted a small gasp and she turned her head just to see him sit up suddenly.

_WHACK!_

Their heads bonked together pretty hard with a dull, meaty thud. Tess quite literally saw stars across her eyes and was knocked back from the impact, falling on her butt and hitting her back against the coffee table with a clatter. After the initial stun she immediately pressed her hands against her head and whimpered. Her entire head felt like it had been rattled and the pain was worse right around her nose and forehead.

“Oowww…”

“What the hell, Twig?” Dante blurted.

She looked up through teary eyes and saw Dante rubbing his forehead furiously with the heel of his hand. “The hell’re you doing, leaning over me like that? Playing Sleepin’ Beauty with me?”

She would’ve liked to snap back at him, but her head hurt so much all she could do was grit her teeth and press her hands against it. Her entire body seemed to try and protect itself, her knees pulling up to her chest and her eyes watering.

“I was… _unh_ … looking for the stupid remote…” she groaned.

She pressed her face into her knees. It felt like she’d run hear first into brick wall! She almost wanted to cry. There was a long awkward silence.

“Hey, you alright?” Dante finally said, a little reluctantly.

“Of course not, you hard-headed idiot!” she snapped, looking up and finding her eyes streaming. She also realized that her nose had burst and one of her nostrils was bleeding. “You just head-butted me into next week!”

The pain was so bad she pressed her head against her knees again while trying to press on her nose with her hand.

“Aw, shit,” he said. He sounded half-amused and maybe half-sorry. “C’mere,” he continued. She heard him get off the creaky sofa and then felt him grab her by the arms gently and lift her to her feet.

He sat her down on the sofa. “Let me have a look.”

Irritably, she swatted his hand away. “Tch, you’re a doctor now?” she snapped but then groaned and leaned back, trying to staunch the blood from her nose. “Ugh, I feel dizzy…”

He stood up and she heard him cross the room and open the fridge. She bent forward with her elbows on her knees, feeling a bump starting to form on her forehead.

“Here, just hold this to your head,” he said, sitting down beside her and pushing a towel wrapped around some ice cubes in her hand and a box of tissues for her nose.

Tess wiped her nose, grumbling about the blood while Dante pressed the ice pack against her head. She stuffed her nostril with some tissue paper and took over holding the ice pack, feeling dizzy. “I swear, if you’ve given me a concussion…”

“Look at me,” he said.

He gently turned her to look up at him with a hand to her chin. She blinked a few times, still feeling her eyes watering and almost looked away without success because he scrutinized her face closely. Her face felt hot suddenly. They stared at each other for a few seconds in complete silence. She thought there was a faint red spot on his forehead from the impact but it was gone before she was sure and her ire rose because she was suddenly absurdly jealous of his durability and ability to recover from injury. Her bump throbbed under the ice pack.

Dante had strange eyes, she realized suddenly. Very light blue, almost like ice. Most of the time he had a bored and disinterested expression; or on the flipside, a cocky little glint when he got into battle – or just argued with her. The one time she’d seen him look serious he looked just like he did right now when he was scrutinizing her and she suddenly felt nervous. 

She must have been shaky from the shock of the impact. It couldn’t have been because of how he looked; she never thought he was particularly handsome. Okay, he was pretty well-built for a teenager and all that but he often had a stupid mocking grin on his face – and a big nose; she often teased him about it, calling him Schnozz or snarking about it as often as he snarked about her slight build.

But as he frowned a bit, his eyes darting back and forth between hers, with a serious expression, she absently thought he didn’t look all that bad.

“I think you’ll be fine, your pupils are both focused,” he said quietly. “Got any double vision or seeing bright lights? Ears ringing, maybe?”

Tess blinked, kind of surprised that he sounded like he knew his stuff. She pulled away from him and just rubbed her nose gingerly. “No, it just hurts,” she grumbled. “You gave me such a knock, you idiot…”

He slumped back on the sofa. “Yeah well, you were hovering over me,” he huffed. “Tch… Twig, I’ve spent too much time thinking some punk-ass demon’s going to try and bite my face off while I’m sleeping. How the hell could I know it was just you?”

She vaguely grunted a little and sat there, holding the icepack to her head and he sniffed as they sat in silence for a while.

“Still dizzy?” he asked at length.

She nodded. “A bit. I think I’m going to go lie down but I have to deal with the rest of the groceries first—“

“Forget it, I’ll do it. I know where you guys put everything by now,” he said and got up before she could say anything. “Get to bed or something, I don’t want Roy tearing my head off because you cracked your head open.”

Tess smiled ruefully. He cared. And he’d probably be fine; she could always double-check later when her head didn’t feel like splitting open.

“Alright. Thanks.”

She took the ice in the towel with her and slowly left the kitchen. She paused briefly at the door and glanced back at him. He’d actually started putting away groceries but had hesitated, looking at a jar of jam like he wasn’t sure where that went. She smiled and then walked away for her room. She climbed the stairs holding onto the banister the entire time, because she still felt dazed from that hit. She quietly cursed his hard head.

When she got upstairs, she opened the door to her rooms and wandered in, sighing at the familiar surroundings of her little apartment. Just two tiny rooms but they were her own. It was a pain to put up with Magda giving her grief about choosing to live there instead of in the landlord’s house with her but Tess needed this distance. She grumbled and held the ice pack to her head a little longer and lay in her bed with a grunt.

After a few minutes she felt well enough to put the icepack down and noticed, to her dismay, that she had stained her sleeve with blood from her nose. She stood up and finding some more stains along her chest, she decided to change. Her jeans were still damp from her excursion to the store, anyway. She walked over to her dresser and searched for a clean shirt. She paused and turned on the radio to listen to some music, feeling like it might make her forget her sore face a bit.

She rummaged around her closet for jeans and laid the fresh clothes on the bed while she undressed. She irritably peeled her bra off too because she felt like changing into a softer, more comfortable one. She hummed a little bit to the music while undressing and paused for a moment to gingerly remove the rolled up tissue from her nose and dabbed her face experimentally with the towel from the icepack. She breathed a sigh of relief: no blood.

In retrospect, she probably should not have put music on. Otherwise she might have heard Dante’s footsteps in the hallway. Or the noise of him pushing her door open without knocking.

“Hey, Twig, you wanna—“   

The idiot didn’t even hesitate; he carried on with the motion and took a step into her room just to stop in his tracks and stare. In her surprise she just stared back and blinked for an entire second before squealing in embarrassment and anger.

“Gah!! F-Fuck! Get out!” she spluttered.

She whipped around hurriedly while covering her chest but to her dismay she realized he would still see her underwear. She dove at her bed and yanked the cover off to hide herself.

“Oh shit, sorry, sorry!”

Tess blinked and peeked over her shoulder as she threw her duvet over herself in a hurry. Dante looked a bit like a deer in headlights – albeit it, an awkwardly smiling one – backing up to the door and groping at the air behind him haphazardly for the door-handle. He was evidently trying to look away but every time his gaze turned away it’d flick back at her.

“Shit, I forgot to knock—sorry, I’m goin’—“

**_WHACK!_ **

Tess blurted a scream because the poor idiot finally closed his hand around the door-handle and whipped around so fast to get out, that he somehow succeeded in whacking his face into the side of her door. Tess was certain she heard a crack and that’s why she screeched in surprise.

“Oh my god—“

“OW! Son of a bitch!” Dante barked and immediately palmed his face.

She saw blood on his hand and winced. “Did you actually break your nose?!” she blurted.

He staggered out and she had the feeling he was wildly embarrassed. “Ow—fuck—I don’t know, maybe—wait; no, I think I’m fine.”

He closed the door in a hurry and she just about ran over to it and opened it just enough to peek outside, even though her face felt so hot she was sure her own nose might start to bleed again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah I’m ok—yeesh. Now I’ve got a bloody nose too.”

Without thinking, she picked up and then passed him her impromptu ice pack from behind her door. “You look like you need it more now.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled pathetically and looked up. He took it from her and then his gaze immediately flicked away as he put it over his nose with a groan. She ducked behind the door again because she realized he probably had seen too much again. His face had been red.

She leaned with her back against the door, fighting with her embarrassment.

“Knock next time!” she snapped, trying to be angry in case it smothered her humiliation.

“Sorry!” he snapped back.

“What did you want, anyway?”

“Just checking on you. I was gonna ask if you wanted pizza. Sounds like the weather’s going to turn shit for good later and it’s already gettin’ dark” he grumbled.

“Pizza?” she blurted.

She’d never heard him that subdued before. “I didn’t think you’d wanna bother cooking after that whack you took and I just feel like it. Look… my treat for head-butting you accidentally and… uh… barging in now, I guess.”

She bit her lip. She really wasn’t sure if she could face him now after this. He’d seen… a whole lot. She was frankly amazed that he wasn’t being a complete ass about it – though he probably would tease her about it at a later date, when he got riled up. But pizza sounded really good and with the weather getting worse, deliveries might stop later.

“Um. Ok.”

“Cool. What do you like on it?”

“What do you take?”

“Meat Lovers, usually. Heavy on mozz.”

“Pepper slices and mushrooms. Same on the cheese. Just chicken and bacon for me, too much meat makes me queasy.”

“Got it.”

She hesitated. “…Thanks.”

He scoffed a little, from the other side of the door. “Sure. And sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m good. Nose healed already.”

“Dante?”

“What?”

“Sorry about your nose.”

“Not your fault.”

“I make fun of it all the time.”

“It _is_ big. Caught your door, didn’t it?”

She blurted a loud laugh and covered her face. “Sorry.”

“I’m going to call the order in.”

“Okay. I’ll, uh, come down in a bit.”

“Gotcha, Twig.”

She heard him walk away, grunting quietly, and she could imagine him gingerly feeling his nose for damage. She stayed with her back against her door and slid to the floor, wrapped in her duvet. She ran her hands over her face. He had seen her naked. _Naked_.

“Oh fucking hell…” she groaned quietly.

She was never going to live this down. Her face burned and she knew she was blushing. At least he hadn’t been a creep about it. He could’ve just stood at the door there and ogled and mocked her. He didn’t. She smirked a bit. While it was mean of her to find his injury amusing, the sight of him looking so flustered that he smashed his face against her door while trying to retreat _was_ funny. He always tried so hard to look and sound cool and unflappable.

It’s nice to see him freak out a little, for a change. But then she started to wonder. Why _did_ he freak out so much? Even his aura had looked panicked, twisting and dancing madly. Before she could stop them, a few ridiculous thoughts paraded through her head. He smiled even as he freaked out. Did he maybe… _like_ what he was seeing? She almost started to giggle idiotically at that and covered her mouth with her hands. But his freakout would imply that maybe he wasn’t… expecting to like it? Or that maybe…

“Oh my shit, is he a virgin?” she mumbled and then started to laugh a little hysterically before stuffing a corner of her duvet into her mouth. 

She giggled and got up to get dressed. She still wasn’t sure how she could go out and face him without starting to laugh like an idiot or blushing hard enough to faint.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite the double whammy, eh?
> 
> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [humming Baby It's Cold Out There]

Dante hung up the lounge phone after calling the pizza parlor, who informed him that the pizza would take some time to be delivered thanks to the weather and the condition of the roads. He huffed and made a last pass over his face with the former ice pack towel to make sure there wasn’t any blood left on his face.

He felt irritable that he’d made such a complete ass of himself. How the hell did he suddenly turn into a klutz? He could juggle guns and swords like nobody’s business, he could fight multiple demons without breaking a sweat and he could perform acts of physics defying prowess – how the hell does a _door_ nearly break his nose just because he got a little careless?

He grumbled to himself and trudged to the door of the basement, then threw the towel, from the top of the stairs straight into the laundry basket at the very bottom. Perfect score, like every time.

It’s not like I was that distracted, he affirmed to himself.

He grunted quietly and rubbed his face with his hands as he headed upstairs for his room. His face still felt warm and he just about managed to keep from breaking into a run. Why would he get embarrassed to see the Twig—

He stopped as soon as he closed the door behind him.

Naked.

He gulped.

He’d seen her _naked._

Well, just about. He almost started to laugh hysterically when his mind shoved an unbidden thought forward:

_She wears purple panties._

“No. No no no no no—“ he muttered and awkwardly rummaged through his dresser for his meager funds. “I’m not gonna fucking lose it just because I saw her in her undies…” 

He grabbed his wallet and stopped, staring at the wall and bit his lip a little. Okay, just how much had he seen? It had happened so fast, him walking in like an idiot and just catching sight of all that pale skin and backing the fuck up as fast as his dumbfounded brain could order his stupid limbs about.

He palmed his face. _I couldn’t even look away completely…_

He’d seen more than enough, he decided; a good look at her slender body, all those faint freckles on her shoulders and forearms. Stupid thoughts crossed his mind, like how could he ever have mistaken her for being flat as a board. Her loose shirts were deceitful. He had definitely seen pert little breasts and he tried to get them out of his head immediately because he gulped and had the uncomfortable feeling they’d get stuck in his head.

He turned around to head for the door again.

She had nice legs though, long and toned and topped with firm buttocks—

“Shit,” he muttered and started to consider that maybe he needed to go outside and dive head-first into the snow. “Not going to save that to the spank bank, not going to save it to the spank bank…” he muttered to himself.

_She’s got a nice ass._

“Goddammit—“ he grunted and almost kicked the wall but decided he didn’t need to try and explain to Roy why he’d put his foot through the wall when the old man got back.

He managed to calm down a bit as soon as he got to the stairs. At least she hadn’t gotten too angry at him for his blunder. She was probably going to be super embarrassed and might not want to come down for a while. He probably shouldn’t tease her about it for a little while.

 _Might be good to cut her some slack for a bit_ , he told himself.

He thumped down the stairs and after grabbing a cold drink from the fridge he parked himself on the couch again. The silence of the house was starting to get to him a little. How did Tess stand it?

Come to think of it, before Roy and Magda left, Tess had more or less said that this was a frequent enough occurrence for her not to need refreshers on how to run the house alone. He wondered how that worked out when they had lodgers other than him. Did they seriously leave Tess here alone with strangers? Not that she was defenseless, honestly. Between setting them on fire or taking a knife to any intruders, Tess was far from defenseless.

Speak of the devil; he perked up when he heard her come down the stairs and into the lounge. He bit his lip a little bit; suddenly he was all too aware that her jeans were actually pretty flattering for her legs. She was wearing a cute black Wonder Woman shirt with a gray zip-up sweatshirt. Definitely loose-fitting… or so he thought. He fought the urge to scrutinize her chest.

“D’you order?”

Dante could hear she was trying to sound normal and nonchalant. The moment their gazes met her face started to get a little rosy and he was aware of a uncomfortable warmth on his cheekbones. They immediately looked away and desperately tried to act normal.

“Yeah, should be here soon enough,” he said, glancing at the clock.

She threw herself into the armchair nearest the TV and bent over the armrest to open one side of the cupboard it stood on. “Cool. Feel like a movie when it gets here?”

Dante blinked, silently berating himself for getting distracted and the fact that his eyes had wandered over to her butt when she bent over. “Why not,” he muttered.

Tess sounded oblivious. “How do you feel about an old-school thriller?”

“Your call, Twig.”

She seemed so happy that he agreed and fished out a DVD box, that Dante felt a little bad. He was never a big fan of films – he rarely got to enjoy any that weren’t just cheap re-runs on TV. His kind of roving life didn’t leave much in way of little comforts like this. And again, the thought of her spending her evenings like this when her family was absent actually felt weird. When did he honestly start to care?

The doorbell rang sharply and they both went to get the door. Tess unlocked it and picked up the pizzas from the freezing delivery man. Dante made no fuss about paying for the pizzas and even gave the man a big tip for braving the weather for a pair of kids. Just as soon as they put the pizza boxes down on the coffee table in the lounge, the phone on Roy’s desk in the lobby rang and Tess got up to get it.

Against his better judgement, Dante stayed very still and listened.

“Hello? Hi Roy. How’s Grams?”

Dante quirked an eyebrow. He’d wondered when Roy would call to check on them.

“We’re fine, we just ordered pizza,” Tess was saying. “It’s been quiet, the weather’s bullshit, too. We’re just gonna watch a movie and kill time—“

She paused suddenly and listened for a few moments and when she spoke again her voice was tense. “Are you and Grams okay?”

Another pause. “Oh…” Tess sounded deflated. “No, it’s okay, I get it. Five days should be okay. No, _really_ , it’s fine. I know, it can’t be helped.”

She listened for a while, again. “We’ll be fine, just bored. Yes, will do. Yeah, I heard about the blizzard on the radio, I’ve checked everything.”

She hissed a bit. “Shit, do you think the power might go out again? I thought you fixed it after last year. Oh. Okay. I’ll just light the lounge fireplace, I guess. Yeah, okay. Got it. You too. Keep Grams safe, okay? Bye.”

Dante heard the click of the receiver and then her sigh and then an irritated little noise. Whatever it was, it sounded like it put her off. Suddenly he felt absurdly glad that he was there and she wasn’t going to spend five days cooped up in a dead-silent house all by herself. He could absolutely imagine her trying to keep herself occupied by watching movies or baking or… or whatever she did on her own. He’d lived under the same roof as her all this time and he still didn’t know what she did to entertain herself.

Tess walked back in with sharp steps and made a beeline for the fridge, retrieving, of all things, two cans of beer. She handed him one and plopped down on the sofa with the pizza boxes between them. He quirked an eyebrow at her about the beer.

“Don’t tell Roy we had beer,” she sighed. “He’ll think we got wasted and wrecked the house or something.”

“Something come up?” he asked carefully, cracking his beer open. As amusing as the idea of Roy incensed at them for getting up to imaginary shenanigans was, it was probably best to avoid that scenario.

She grumbled. “Grams got caught up in a stupid judgement thing,” she started and then frowned. “It’s like… kind of like being a judge and jury for a spat between some wiccans. Covens do this when there’s an internal issue that can’t be resolved. They ask a few wiccans from another coven to be arbiters, shit like that.”

She fumbled a bit with the DVD player and set the movie up.

Dante frowned a bit, trying to wrap his head around that. Life for witches sounded endlessly complicated. “Right… and they’re stuck out there?”

“Looks like it.”

As far as evenings went, this one wasn’t so bad. His restlessness evaporated in favor of the film – an unexpectedly tense thriller, considering its age. He could at least give Tess props for her taste in films. As much as the film absorbed him, he couldn’t help but catch himself glancing over at her. As he’d feared, it was impossible to look at her and not think of what he’d glimpsed. He bit hard into his pizza and tried to concentrate on the film but when she leaned forward to prop her elbow on her crossed legs, he found his gaze settling on the nape of her neck, where the white skin peeked between her shirt and her hair.

Fortunately, the mounting tension of the film distracted him before he could start thinking what a contrast her rosy nipples had been against her white skin. What business did he have, thinking of her little boobs, anyway? Not that there was anything wrong with them…

He just about crammed a third of a pizza slice into his mouth to force the thought away as he chewed.

“Hey… calm down. If you choke, I can’t exactly call 911! What am I gonna tell ‘em? ‘By the way he’s half-demonic’?” she groused at him.

He snorted and swallowed his bite. “Hell no,” he hooted. “Doubt we’d get any help in this weather, you might have to resuscitate me.”

“You’d be certifiably dead then because I’m not kissing you again,” she snorted. “We’re on our own, cowboy.”

He washed the pizza down with beer. “We _are_ though, aren’t we?”

She stared back at the film and he got the impression that he made her a little uncomfortable. She fidgeted and looked away briefly. He suddenly wondered at her a bit. He’d expect her to be nervous stuck alone with basically a stranger. Who accidentally peeped on her.

“It’s hardly the first time they leave me alone here,” she said suddenly.

He sat back. “You’re a witch, ain’tcha? Why doesn’t your granny take you with her to a coven meeting or whatever that is?”

“It’s… complicated,” Tess sighed. “Grams’ coven is very old-fashioned. I wouldn’t be tolerated there. Because of my dad, I mean. And let’s be honest, I’d just piss them all off in no time, you know what I’m like.”

“Hey, you said it, not me,” Dante chuckled. “So you’re saying… she’s ashamed of you?”

“A bit. She probably does like getting away from me for a while. It’s easier this way, anyway. The house is safe enough, Roy doesn’t need to stay and babysit me,” she shrugged.

“Sounds pretty lonely, Twig,” he observed, staring at the screen.

“You get used to it after a while.”

Dante glanced back at her when she said that. There was something… hard about her expression when she said that. Something that smacked of disappointment and loneliness. He knew that expression a lot more intimately than he liked to admit. He got that face whenever his brother crossed his mind.

“That’s no excuse,” he blurted. “It’s messed up. And that’s coming from _me._ ”

They were a sorry pair, frankly, even by his standards. Both of them orphans thanks to demons and the sins of their fathers and both of them unable to fit in with the rest of the world.

“You guys are human, witches or not. You’re… normal. You’re family. And she still feels like that? I don’t get it.”

Why the hell was he getting indignant about this? 

Tess just shrugged, looking at him. “Well, you know. She can’t get over what my parents did. She really hated my dad.” She put her beer can down. “But seriously, don’t sweat too much over it. It can’t be helped and… well, _you’re_ here. It’s not that bad.”

He felt a bit flattered and mollified by her answer. It was nice to be appreciated, for all the lousy company he was.

They polished off their pizzas (Dante ended up eating a third of hers because she was full) and settled back to watch the rest of the film. Near the last third, they paused it so he could take a leak and she went to fetch a blanket because she was starting to feel cold. As soon as he left the ground floor bathroom, the lights flickered and before Dante could even think ‘welp’ the power suddenly fizzled out with an audible crackle and he was plunged in darkness. The house suddenly felt much quieter and he could hear the howling of a strong wind outside. It sounded like the hard weather had indeed hit the city pretty hard.

“Aw shit!”

He chuckled at Tess’ distant grumble. He could still see fairly well in the dark and made his way to the stairs leading up. “Hey Twig, you alright?”

“I’m fine, hang on.”

He waited by the foot of the stairs for a minute or two, until he saw a wobbly light coming down and her outline. She came down the stairs with the aid of a flashlight, carrying a couple of blankets.

“Well now we’re pretty fucked,” she grumbled and passed him one of them. “Thought you might be chilly. I thought it was too early to turn the heating on upstairs and my room is a freezer. I doubt yours is any better.”

He didn’t really need it but he took the blanket anyway, throwing over his shoulders. “I’m not that bothered,” he sighed. “Think the power will be gone for long?”

“No clue. What’s going on outside?”

They went over to the large window of the lobby and looked out on the main street. It was dark and all they could see for a moment were vague pale shapes until Tess pointed her flashlight out of the window.

“Oh shit, that’s a lot of snow!” Dante blurted, seeing the white-out outside. “Knee-high at least.”

“And there’s more coming down – and look at that wind,” Tess groaned, a little distraught.

“How’d we not notice the weather turn to shit so fast?” Dante muttered. “I swear, if Roy was wrong and this is that goddamn Chern-the-butter—“

“No way, I’d feel it if it was him,” she cringed. “We’re going to get snowed in at this rate, this is ridiculous.” Her distress seemed to mount as she came to a realization. “And without power… goodbye heating. We’re gonna freeze—well, I will, anyway.”

Dante snickered in spite of himself and covered his face with his hand. True, he was pretty resistant to temperature extremes, minor discomfort aside. Tess was really going to have a problem, though.

“Shouldn’t we do something about that? There’s a fireplace in the lounge, isn’t there?” he said.

“Right, right…” she muttered. “I hope the blackout doesn’t last too long. I should turn the tap on a little or the pipes could burst…”

“One thing at a time, Twig.”

They went to the basement and found the stack of firewood normally reserved for Magda’s own fireplace. Between them they lugged up some armfuls upstairs and cleared away the junk around the fireplace. They piled some wood in and Tess easily started a fire, coaxing the flames nice and bright.

With that done, they secured all the windows and doors on the ground floor against the encroaching snow and settled in for the evening. Tess dug up another flashlight and lit some candles in the lounge room. They did what they could to pass the time; Dante cleaned his guns and Tess read a book. They talked about idle things. Eventually, they were even bored enough to play a board game in front of the fireplace, wrapped in blankets and sitting on the sofa cushions.

“Wait, you can’t use that word, it’s not even English,” Dante muttered.

“At least French is still _human_ language, you wanted to use a demonic word,” she groused back and ate some of the cake slice on her lap.

He ate some of his. “You’re just ticked I’m kicking your ass at _Scrabble_ , Twig.”

He _did_ win, at least. It was nearly midnight when they both mutually agreed they were getting too cold and tired for comfort. There was still no power.

“I’m not looking forward to this,” Tess grumbled, putting away the game box. She tugged the blanket closer around her. “I’m almost tempted to just sleep down here on the floor.”

“You’ll freeze faster,” he warned her, standing straight and stretching lavishly.

She whined. “My room’s already a freezer.”

A possibly traitor part of his mind decided it was a good idea to shove an impish thought forth, which his filter didn’t stop it before it came flying out of his mouth.

“Heh, why don’tcha come sleep with me, then? In my bed, I mean,” Dante added in a hurry, still trying to sound casual. “Shared body warmth and all that.”

He was kidding – at least, that’s what he told himself. He just wanted to see her get embarrassed and flustered. It wasn’t because that traitor bit of his mind kept thinking about her naked. Nope, not at all. Just wanted to fluster her—

She said nothing, just stared right at him wide-eyed and silent. Her face got rosy and it was obvious even with the fire making everything seem reddish in the dark. He saw the war of emotions on her face. He was about to spare her the building tension with a quip to either ease her or tick her off, but she pre-empted him. 

“I know you’re kidding,” she said quietly. “But… that actually sounds… like a good idea.”

Now he was stunned into silence and gulped a little.

 _If I was a different kind of guy, I’d take that so wrong,_ he thought. _And I’d be grinning like an idiot._

“Wow, _that_ cold, Twig?” he said sheepishly.

She nodded. “I can’t help it,” she cringed. “When it gets cold like this I have a hard time. It’s fine while I’m up and about but trying to sleep is a pain. I just start to freeze without heating. It’s stupid.”

She stared at the floor, fidgeting. She seemed to be expecting him to tease her. He wanted to, but…

_Why’s this so adorable?_

He took a deep breath and made sure his tone was even. No hint of teasing. “Well if it can’t be helped, then what’s the fuss? I’m not telling anyone,” he said. “’Specially not Roy.”

“Shit, don’t even joke about that,” she said with eyes wide. But then she sighed and rubbed her arms. “Alright… if we’re gonna do this, I’m… gonna go double-check the doors,” she mumbled and walked past him. “And then… uh… turn in.”

He couldn’t help it anymore and grinned. “I’ll be _wai~ting_ …” he warbled as he headed up the stairs and then chuckled at the angry sound she directed at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante is reminded that he is a hormonal teenaged boy

Dante brushed his teeth by flashlight and then changed into some cotton pants – he slept in his underwear usually but he had a feeling that those just wouldn’t cut it tonight. He’d be having a guest. In his bed. Whom he had seen naked.

“Get a grip…” he muttered to himself and tightened the cord of his pants. 

 _I’m putting myself in trouble, here. I just know it,_ he thought, listening to Tess’ footsteps coming up the stairs with a kind of trepidation he didn’t think he’d have.

He caught himself picking up and hiding away some magazines and clothes lying haphazardly around his room. He groaned at himself quietly. Throwing some clothes back in a drawer he shut it with an irritable, dawning awareness.

_Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut…_

He then checked his bedside clock. Past midnight. He put it down and made to sit on the bed but then stood up. Yes, he could be an ass and drape himself on the bed like he was waiting for his goddamn lover but that was probably more ‘on the nose’ than either of them could handle at this point. He grumbled and rubbed the back of his neck, pacing over to his window and squinting at the weather outside. The wind had picked up, howling through the streets and carrying a lot of snow that pattered gently against the glass. He breathed out and watched the glass fog up.

There was a knock on his door.

“Yeah I’m decent,” he joked but it sounded kind of hollow.

His door creaked open softly and the beam of a flashlight came through.

“Hey…” Tess muttered, shuffling in.

He smiled. She had managed to juggle holding the flashlight and carrying a bundled blanket and pillow under her arm. “I, uh, brought extra. It’s cold and you look like a hogger.”

He chuckled. “Whatever floats your boat, Twig.”

In the gloom he eyed her up and down. She was wearing black pyjama bottoms and a somewhat baggy shirt in purple and black with a white cat face. It had a wide neckline and it drooped a little on one shoulder. He grinned. He didn’t expect her to have such cute nightwear. She caught him grinning when she closed the door behind her.

“What?”

He covered his mouth momentarily. “Nothing. So, this is the Twig sleep-wear of choice for this season?” he chuckled.

She scoffed in return. “If you were expecting a tank top and boy-shorts at _this_ time of year, I’m sorry to disappoint,” she snarked. “’Sides, you’ve seen _more_ than enough today.”

Dante barked a laugh and sat heavily on his bed. He hadn’t expected _her_ to begin with the jokes about their little mishap. “Alright, alright,” he sighed with a smirk. “You got a side preference?”

She approached the bed. “Mind if I have the wall side? I’m used to sleeping against a wall.”

He gestured towards the far side of the bed. “Suit yourself.”

Tess tossed her pillow and the extra blanket on the other end and climbed on. Dante fought the urge to stare at her ass as it ambled past him, then he swung his legs up and under the covers. They tucked themselves in, spread the extra blanket on top and turned off the flashlights. He smiled faintly at her cringing at the cold mattress and pulling the covers up to her nose, almost.

His brain took the opportunity to be captain obvious and yell at him: _There is a girl in your bed. I repeat; there is a girl in your bed. This is not a drill._

He took a breath and tried to relax but his whole body was tense. Why the heck would he be tense? He didn’t get tense when fighting demons, why was sharing a bed suddenly getting him all bent out of shape?

He turned on his side and found that so had she – she’d backed right up against the wall and was staring at him, eyes wide but he was pretty sure he couldn’t see him as well as he could see her – unless her ability to see his aura helped at all. She looked jittery and he became aware of the feeling of a light trembling through the mattress. They lay in silence for a while, just facing each other like that, until Dante got seriously concerned about her shivering.

“Hey, are you still cold?” he asked helplessly.

There was little more than a foot of distance between their bodies. He was feeling warm enough but then again… he always was pretty warm-blooded.

She nodded nervously. “It’s just… this is the first time I share a bed,” she chuckled shakily. “I mean, when I was a kid Roy’d sleep on my bed sometimes but he was a cat and… and you get the idea…”

He snorted. “Yeah, I figured. I don’t know anything about bed-sharing etiquette either,” he joked. “But… if you’re cold, you can just come closer.”

“N-no, it’s fine.”

She squirmed uncertainly; her hand bumped into his under the covers and she pulled away almost alarmingly fast. He thought she was all but flattened against the wall.

“Tch, come on, don’t be such a baby,” he grunted and reached out under the covers.

He grabbed her hand and clicked his tongue irritably. Her hand was ice and against her squeaky protests he pulled her closer to him and cupped her hands in his. They were cold but soft and her slender fingers were delicate as they relaxed and curled against his palm. He faintly smelled something sweet, like almonds. Hand lotion, probably.

“There we go, is that so bad?” he said and grinned.

She made a low, irritated noise. “No,” she mumbled. “Why are you shirtless?” she grumbled.

He craned his neck forward until their foreheads touched. “Be happy I wore pants. I usually sleep in my briefs.”

She made an angry little hiss and tried to pull away but then she came back close. “Fuck you and your warmth…” she mumbled. “Don’t be an ass.”

“You asked!” he chuckled.

He narrowed his eyes a little in the gloom. Was she… checking him out under the covers? He was so tempted to offer to let her touch his chest or whatever but he was pretty sure she might kick him. Their feet touched next and again he found her skin to be cold.

“Jeez, Twig, you’re really turning into a popsicle. C’mere.”

He reached over and pulled her in further.

“Hey, wait!” she squeaked.

“You’re cold.”

“I know that!”

“I’m not,” he said cheekily.

“Screw you.”

He couldn’t help his big grin, or how he sounded a little… wicked. “Are you scared, Tess?”

There was a brief silence where he could just see her expression in the gloom. Her eyes were wide, trying to see in the dark but there was so much _defiance_ in them.

“No,” she said evenly. “Does that bother you?” she added after a moment.

“Nah. I always liked that you don’t let anyone give you shit,” he admitted, his smile shrinking. “I’ll stop dicking around. Go to sleep.”

She grunted quietly but then seemed to relax at last and settled in. “Goodnight, you dork.”

“G’night, Twig.”

Dante and dreams had a perilous relationship. They were either a painful ride through the most unpleasant of his memories, magnified by the musings of a restless mind with too much awful imagery to draw from, or a brief reprieve from reality into pleasant flights of fancy. His favorite dreams involved voluptuous women (with guest appearances from other desirable partners) with wicked smiles and talented fingers.

That night he dreamt of freckles; dusted in a cute burst across a small nose and along slender arms. He dreamt of delicate, cold fingers that smelled of almonds.

They were good dreams.

He woke up suddenly; years of forced habit made him react to every little thing even though he slept fairly deeply. Momentarily he wasn’t sure what had woken him up. He blearily stared at the ceiling. It was really cold, his breath just about misted when he exhaled. He felt… so warm and cozy under the covers that he didn’t really feel like moving. Weak light played through the gap of his curtains and hit the wall above him. He suddenly became aware of a presence and a warm, comforting smell. He abruptly remembered that he was sharing the bed with Tess.

He was lying on his back and craned his neck down.

Tess was curled against him, her arm draped over his chest and her head was resting on his shoulder—the tangle of red hair was softly tickling his cheek. She must’ve moved and woken him up. He blinked lazily and smiled. He could see her making an utterly hilarious face under her hair, her cheek squished against his shoulder and her lips fixed into a halfway ‘squishy’ pout –

His smile drooped as he realized that this meant they were… basically cuddling. His arm was tucked under her shoulders and all he needed to do was bend his elbow and he’d be hugging her.

A slight panic chased away the last dregs of sleep from him and he gulped. Well… now what? What’s the etiquette for a sleeping witch using you as a pillow and comforter and electric blanket? He couldn’t even tell what time it was, moving to check his clock would wake her up and he didn’t really have the heart to rouse her, she looked so comfortable and peaceful like that.

A somewhat scary thought occurred to him. How did she trust him that much to spend the night in his bed? He was half-demon, she knew that, she saw it every time she looked at him. She’d suffered at the hands of demons, lost her family to them and she had been witness to the kind of abominable things they did. So… how was she sleeping so peacefully cuddled right up to him? The thought tied a knot in his stomach. He felt a bit irritated; ever since he’d started to live in the boarding house he’d been confronted with a lot of feelings like this. It was sad. _He_ was sad; was simple human contact almost that alien to him now?

She mumbled in her sleep and squirmed a little, rubbing her head into his shoulder and sighed. He almost tensed when she did that; he realized that their legs were mostly tangled together, her leg bent between his and her cheek was against his bare shoulder and he suddenly got goosebumps – why!?

Because it was a really nice feeling, that’s why. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

 _Get a grip. Get a fucking grip,_ he told himself.

He lay in silence for a bit, then craned his neck towards the window. The light coming through was weak and he could see frost clinging to the glass. Hopefully Tess wouldn’t be too cold when she woke up. As nice as it would be to stay in bed all day, his restlessness would get the better of him. He was starting to get a little hungry too. He looked back down at her because she made a tiny, audible sigh and squirmed again, nuzzling into him. He smiled wryly. She was cute.

He bent his arm at the elbow and brought his hand to her shoulder under the covers. Her pajama had slid down off her shoulder. Her skin was warm and soft and for a moment he wasn’t sure how to progress from there. Fortunately she squirmed again and her eyes fluttered open slowly.

“Hey Twig,” he muttered. “’Morning.”

She blinked, sleepily. “…Mmmh?”

“Wakey, wakey,” he chuckled, shaking her a little. “My arm’s falling asleep,” he lied.

Now that his hand was tucked on her shoulder, he was very reluctant to remove it.

“Oh… ‘morning, I guess,” she mumbled and stuffed her face in the blanket, yawning widely. “What time is it?”

Now that she was awake he managed to lift himself on his elbow and crane his neck. “Welp, it’s almost 11. Guess the cold weather makes us both sleepy.”

“Oh jeez… I should get up and check the power and everything and dig out the front door but… it’s so warm in here I don’t want to get up,” she groaned.

Then her eyes widened and she abruptly disentangled herself from him. His hand slid off her shoulder as she sat up and tugged the drooping neckline of her pajama shirt up. “Wait. Did I fall asleep _on you?_ ”

He smiled tartly at her and shrugged a bit. “I guess?”

She sniffled a bit and stared at him wordlessly. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Why? I kinda invited ya to sleep here, didn’t I?”

He watched her bite her lip and glance away for a moment. “I thought it’d bother you.”

He smiled and he wasn’t sure if he was successful in removing every ounce of cheek from it. “I can’t say that it did, Twig.”

She continued to bite her lip and stare at him awkwardly and he watched her face turn pink slowly.

“I gotta go check if the power came back. And. Stuff,” she blurted and scrambled off the bed.

She had to crawl over his knees to get off the bed with her pillow and blanket in hand. Dante stared at her butt as she ran off. A little bit of purple peeked between her pajama bottoms and her shirt.

 _I really need to get a grip,_ he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tess.exe has stopped working

The power had not yet returned. Tess was angry at that and a little angry at herself for losing her cool so spectacularly when he said he wasn’t bothered that she’d cuddled up to him. She was angry that she’d cuddled up to him like that. Well… not _quite_ angry. It was nice.

 _No, no that’s bad, that’s a bad idea; don’t go there,_ she ordered herself.

But he’d been so warm and comfortable…

Thank goodness for freezing water from the tap to wash her face with.

She groaned at herself and hurriedly changed into some thick jeans and turtle-neck ribbed sweater. It was nice and snug and guaranteed to keep her good and warm with the addition of an undershirt. She doubled up on socks and then headed downstairs to inspect the house. Fortunately none of the windows had been damaged and when Dante came down, in an equally thick sweater, they managed to open the front door, as it had frozen shut. When they pulled it open with a crackle of ice, they found a solid wall of snow up to their knees and then some – it had piled up the front steps. The road was fairly clear, thanks to plowing machines no doubt, but fresh powder snow had covered up any clearing up and the snow around the front door was pretty compact.

Tess groaned at it. “Roy’s gonna kill me if I leave it to freeze solid.”

“I’ll give you a hand, but we should get something to eat first,” Dante observed.

She smiled up at him. “You’ll help? Thanks.”

They lit the fireplace again and after some finagling, jury-rigged one of the oven grates over some old bricks from the basement. They warmed some milk in a pot and made hot cocoa and then grilled some cheese sandwiches. Reasonably fed, they piled on some clothing layers, fetched some shovels and an ice pick from the basement and went about clearing the doorway and steps from the snow.

“Can’t you just use some fire to melt it?” Dante asked her just as they started.

“Yeah, I’d love to see _you_ explain that to the first lookie-loo who draws their curtains. I know this neighborhood’s dead, but it’s not _that_ dead,” she said irritably from behind a thick scarf.

While his strength and endurance helped, it still took the two of them over three hours to completely free the doorway and get down to the street level. The top layer of powder snow wasn’t so bad; they could remove that with shovels and even their hands but the bottom layers were a nightmare. They’d frozen hard and in some parts they were as hard as rocks. 

Both succeeded in falling on their asses at least once, no thanks to the ice. Tess had to stop often to catch her breath and recover from the cold but she refused to go inside and leave him to do it alone. And then they stopped halfway because Dante thought to toss a snowball at her. It splatted high on her back and some snow got into the small gap between her scarf and the top of her coat. She squealed from the sudden cold and she scooped up a handful of snow, roughly balled it in her hands and flung it back at him with vehemence.

Dante grinned at her and barely bent to the side, letting the missile fly beside his head and responded with another ball that hit her shoulder.

“You asshole!” she cackled and scooped up more snow.

He tried to side-step it but his foot sunk into some loose snow and he wobbled uncertainly, taking the snowball she threw to the face and she laughed in triumph.

“Oh it’s on!” he said, smirking.

Soon enough they were chasing each other around the street with snowballs, screaming and laughing like children. She wasn’t sure how she got him with her shots even half of the time and suspected him of purposefully taking the hits. Either way, it was satisfying to watch him jump around and yelp when she shoved some snow down his shirt. They eventually called enough of a truce to finish clearing out the front door and the steps and even a path to the street because it started to get dark from the gathering clouds. 

They were both sore and tired and very cold when they got back inside. And quite damp, so they changed and just prepared to spend another long evening in front of the fireplace, wrapped in blankets. They used a battery-powered radio to listen to the weather with more hot chocolate and cookies.

“Seems like we’re in for the long haul with the power,” Tess grumbled as the announcer said the power outage was predicted to last for at least two more days.

“I guess we’re lucky the weather seems to have put even demons off,” Dante chuckled.

She blinked. “Yeah, no kidding. When we were outside I didn’t feel any of that weird oppressive feeling I’d get while he was around.”

He shrugged. “Maybe Roy really did scare Chern-the-butter off for good,” he mused and sipped some cocoa.

“I hope that’s the deal,” she sighed and huddled into her blanket then stared at the couches. “You know what, I feel like doing something dumb.”

He raised an eyebrow at him. “Like?”

She smiled mischievously. “Like make a pillow fort.”

It was his turn to blink and then he tilted his head back and laughed. “What are ya, Twig? Twelve?”

“We’re gonna be stuck spending time in front of the fireplace, might as well get comfortable!” she insisted, smiling.

He chuckled a little but then shrugged. “Sure, why the hell not. How does one make a pillow fort?”

“You’ve never made a pillow fort?” she blurted, leaning towards him.

“I think I did when I was a kid,” he said and suddenly looked thoughtful. “It’s been… a while.”

Tess bit her lip and kicked herself. Well d’uh. He’d lost his family and he’d all but said he was a bit of a vagrant. She’d gone and made him uncomfortable.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna—“

“No, I do,” he interrupted. He smiled wryly. “I can’t remember how we made ‘em.”

She said nothing for a moment, then smiled. “Well then. I guess I better pull out the big guns and show you how to make the best one,” she said and shuffled out of her blanket. “Come on, Pillow Forts 101 starts right now.”

She got up and grabbed him by the wrist. He had a somewhat confused look on his face but let her pull him up off the floor. They went around the house gathering extra blankets, some sheets from the linen closet and all the throw-pillows and cushions from the lounge sofas. They used two of the dining chairs and the back of one of the couches to build their sheet-lined fort right in front of the fireplace and piled as many cushions and pillows and blankets on the floor as they could. Tess dug up some battery-powered Christmas lights from the basement to illuminate it and to her delight, Dante admitted it was fun and very cozy. They even carried the low coffee table inside to have somewhere to put things down on.

It was pretty snug and felt oddly secure.

“I guess I’m sold on pillow forts now,” he snorted, sitting back against the back of the couch and the pillows.

“Wooorth iiiit~” she sang and wrapped herself in a blanket again.

It was getting dark outside. “Guess we should think about food.”

“Yet again,” she chuckled. “Your stomach’s like a puppy, needs feeding every few hours.”

“I’m a growing half-demon, I need it,” he countered. “’Sides, we did all that hard work.”

There was a loud gurgling noise just before she could laugh at him. Dante broke into a laugh. “Welp! Sounds like you’re ready for some food too, Twig! Gotta put some meat on them bones!”

“Shut uuuup…” she snapped. “Hmm, I wonder what we could do without power.”

Dante eyed the fireplace. “Think we could manage to grill something on the fireplace?”

“We’d have to wrap it up in foil pretty good to avoid the soot…” she said thoughtfully. “Steaks and potatoes?”

“Fuck yes.”

It took a little more finagling this time after they raided the freezer, fridge and cupboards for food. They left the steaks thawing while they worked out how exactly they’d cook them. Tess found an old iron skillet and another clean oven rack and Dante fetched another pair of old bricks from the basement. With those and a little tin foil they managed to cobble together a functional grill in the hearth over hot coals from the fireplace. Tess wrapped some potatoes in foil after seasoning them and piled hot ash and coals around them. When she thought they were halfway done they gingerly opened them up, cut them in half, stuffed them with cheese and bacon and wrapped them up again.

It was improvised and the steaks got a little singed and Dante just about seared his hand with the skillet but they managed to make themselves a respectable dinner of steak and baked potatoes. They wolfed it all down while listening to the radio.

Tess felt a little weird. Usually being left home when Magda had to attend her coven, taking Roy with her, Tess was lonely. She just killed time in the house and watched time go by like molasses in winter. When she was very young she used to play a game with herself; the silent game, she called it. She spent her entire time trying not to utter a word, pretending she was mute. Other times, she talked to objects, giving them names and personalities. As she got older she’d stopped doing both. She just read and waited. Once in a while she went outside, away from the protective wards and spoke with ghosts.

Now in just two days she had talked and done more than she had in several years of this routine. It frightened her a bit. She wasn’t used to good things staying in her life.

“Hey, do we have any cake left?” Dante snapped her out of her reverie.

“Uh, yeah.”

They played Monopoly. Or tried. They were too busy cracking jokes about it and getting confused over the rules. They put it away without deciding a clear winner because they got bored. It was dark now. They finished off the cocoa and then Dante spilled some down his shirt.

“Well fuck,” he muttered and crawled out of the fort to go wash it in the sink.

Tess patted dry the few drops that hit the pillows and then… leaned out of the pillow fort and stared at him. He had taken his shirt off and was standing over the running sink, scrubbing the stain on the shirt. She pinched her lips between her teeth.

 _How the hell does a teenager get those kinda shoulders?_ she thought. _Oh, d’uh. Sword. Demon bits must help too._

The glow of the fireplace just reached him over on the other end of the lounge and his lean muscles rippled with every move. Her lip caught between her teeth and she stared as his arms moved. Then she blinked and lay on her stomach and stuffed her face in a pillow.

 _I cannot be having these thoughts… I cannot be fucking having these thoughts,_ she chided herself.

But she did, because then the dingbat came over to hang the wet shirt beside the fireplace to dry and threw himself into the pillow fort again, _shirtless_.

“Aren’t you gonna go change?” she asked, incredulous.

“Nah, I’m good. We’re gonna go up soon to sleep, I don’t feel like going up and down the stairs all the time,” he said and yawned, wrapping himself in his blanket.

Like that concealed much. The light from the fire caught his pale skin and made it almost glow.

He caught her looking and her troubled face and a smarmy grin spread on his face. He let the blanket slide off his shoulders and _flexed_ a little. She wanted to kick herself yet again because her gaze flicked down at his pecs before she panicked and forced it back to his face. He was grinning and leaning forward towards her.

Tess frowned. _Why am I freaking out, I slept against him all night, didn’t I?_

Somehow that made it worse. He was messing with her, she knew it, she could see it from his eyes all the way to his stupid aura and the ‘background noise’ effect of it that resembled a vague demon form.

“What’s the matter, Twig?” he asked innocently. “Like what you see?”

She fought for something smart to say in response. No she didn’t – lies. Yes, what of it, dipshit? Oh hell no, she couldn’t admit to anything! Seconds were ticking by and she had nothing to say, no snappy comeback for his jibe and goddammit he was going to win this round— whoa there cowboy you’re awfully close –

She put her hand out and gave him a little shove with an irritated noise.

“Cut it out,” she blurted.

He chuckled and backed away but his smarmy smile didn’t leave and on impulse, she grabbed one of the throw pillows and whapped him in the face with it. He just laughed and grabbed another and whapped her back. She snorted and smacked him again, catching his arm. He ‘returned fire’ by hitting her in the face. They exchanged a couple of blows, swinging the pillow each held and cackling the entire time. She had to try considerably harder because he had a longer reach. Eventually he got fed up and plowed her pillow into him, sort of tackling him to the floor.

He lay on his back, wheezing with laughter as she pushed her pillow into his chin. He cackled and his arms came up and hugged her. And then she realized… she was lying on his chest. It rose and fell with his laughter and she was right on top of it. Firm, hard muscle. His skin was very warm and she instantly regretted this because her face started to burn. She pushed off him, forcing a smile to try and hide her fluster.

“Alright, enough horseplay. I’m gonna go, um, check the windows. The blizzard might hit tonight,” she said, retreating and crawling out of the fort. “We should grill the last two steaks for dinner and I can make a salad—“

She was rambling. She was _definitely_ rambling. He said nothing but she had the distinct impression that he chuckled quietly, like under his breath. She stayed out of the lounge until she had really checked the windows from top to bottom. Thankfully the insulations and weathering that Roy had installed seemed to be holding against the winds. The building was frozen and Tess absently realized this meant she’d probably have to spend the night in Dante’s bed. Again.

She gulped a little and tried to force herself to just _stop_ blushing.

When she got back to the lounge, Dante was busy setting up the grill again, still shirtless. She braced herself for the hard task of _not_ looking at him, dammit. Not too much. They chattered about the niceties of being children with supernatural abilities in their blood. Mostly about getting shit for things they couldn’t control.

“I don’t get why someone’d think your hair is weird,” she said. “It’s just… white. That’s it.”

He barked a strange laugh and then cleared his throat. “Yeah well… s’enough for some people, I guess.”

“I can’t believe they’d overlook your nose in favor of being mean about your hair,” she chuckled and then reached over and flicked a lock of hair off his forehead. “I think they look kinda silver in the firelight.”

He chuckled quietly and bit into some food.

She frowned at him. “What?”

“You like my hair,” he observed.

She blinked and then smiled, elbowing him gently. “Maybe I do, Schnozz. Maybe I do.”

“People ever make fun of ya for anything?”

She thought for a moment. “Yeah. My hair and my freckles. People’d tell me gingers have no soul. And that freckles were ugly.”

“I dunno why they’d say that,” he said, chewing. “They look like… sprinkles on a cake, to me.”

Tess had been taking a sip of water and she almost choked on her drink, spluttering water over the rim of her mug. She was forced to put it down and laugh and cough almost at the same time. He reached over and patted her back until she managed to breathe.

“I think that takes the prize for the weirdest thing people have said about my freckles,” she managed and he chuckled. “But thank you.”

They ate and cleaned up before winding down for the night, listening to the radio’s weather report about the oncoming blizzard and just lounging in the pillow fort until they both felt tired enough to decide it was time to go sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to hell in a handbasket and you're all coming with me

Dante sighed and stared at his ceiling while waiting for Tess. He sat on the side of his bed and wondered.

_So she likes my hair. And she lost it a bit when I took my shirt off._

That was mean of him. He was being a bit of an ass because something urged him to do so. Either because he was a teenaged boy with all the hormones set to 11 or because of his demonic blood – at this point they were both just as bad. He liked to see her get flustered. And boy, had she ever gotten flustered. When she tackled him to the floor her hands were on his chest and he got the distinct impression that she _liked_ that. Yeah, yeah, she beat a hasty tactical retreat but he’d seen her face, all pink and confused. He’d wanted to laugh.

_The fuck are we doing…?_

He flopped back on his bed and bent his arm so he’d cover his eyes. His head was a bit of a jumble. He wasn’t supposed to get this… invested in this place, this house, these people. He had expected boredom when Magda and Roy left and he was stuck inside. He’d expected to just kill time until there was more trouble to be had, more demons to fight. He should’ve been restless and irritable. He should’ve been… well, lonely.

Instead he had had two days of honestly pleasant time. He’d had _fun_ , for once, without demons getting involved in any way whatsoever. He’d had a snowball fight – _him_! A pillow fort! He… he got to be a kid for a bit. He had honestly thought that was all over for him, done, snatched away with his family and innocence.

_Guess I do have some left._

He had fun, all because he hung around the Twig. They toughed out these last two days together. She knew all this about him, about his demonic blood and his powers and she… didn’t care. He knew she was a witch and didn’t care. He liked seeing her flustered and he liked to tease her. He liked her. And he sincerely felt she liked him.

Both of those things were entirely new to him.

He pushed himself up at the soft knock on the door. “Come in.”

Tess shuffled in, yawning widely and Dante smiled wryly. She had draped her blanket over her shoulders and wrapped it around herself. She looked pretty cold.

“All aboard the USS Warm Bed,” he chuckled.

“Shut uup~” she mumbled and climbed in. “Oh shit, shit, shit, this is cold, get in, get in…”

He snickered a little as she slipped under the covers and curled up. He climbed in and tugged the covers up to his chin. Welp, she wasn’t kidding, it really was cold. He muttered in agreement to her assessment and he just chuckled a little when she just shimmied over and glued herself to him. She was shivering though so his laugh felt a bit hollow and instead he wrapped an arm around her.

 “I hate that you’re so warm in this cold but goddamn, that feels good,” she muttered. “But couldn’t you wear a wifebeater or something?”

“Nope,” he sighed. “I like sleeping like this and it ain’t changing.”

She huffed and they stayed like that. Her face was just about tucked into the crook of his neck and he bit his lip a little. He could feel her breath against his skin, especially when she talked. Her hands were relaxed against his chest. Her fingers were cold. They talked for a little, mostly about ‘safe’ things, like what to eat tomorrow, whether they should plot some expedition to see if any shop was open, when the power might come back, those sort of things.

It was entirely mundane but there was something very soothing about it all, especially as he took the time to appreciate that her shivering gradually stopped as he held her against him. It was a nice feeling, lying under a pile of covers, all warm and cozy like this. To think that just a while ago all they did was bicker and insult each other. A few days ago they almost got killed. They were stupid teens, both looking for trouble. She was dozing off by then and fortunately didn’t react to the small grunt that escaped him when he thought of that. Something in his chest… twisted weirdly and he hugged her a little closer.

This time his sleep was a little restless. He’d spoken too much about his past today and it all came barreling forth in his dreams, the screaming, the fire, the loss, the hurt. The unbearable loneliness even when he was surrounded by people who saw and yet were so _blind_ to what was there. The constant roving and fighting. Then it shifted. A hand, small and cold and smelling of almonds grabbed him by the wrist. Out of the dark and into blinding white snow and laughter. Freckles on a red face. The phantom taste of chocolate and cherries.

Again he woke with a start. It was different this time, something felt… tense and uncomfortable but at the same time so warm and cozy that he didn’t want to move. In the gloom of the weak light coming from the window he saw a tangle of red hair in front of him.

Oh. _Oh._

They were spooning.

Her back was pressed up against his chest and their legs were a tangle under the covers. His arm was draped over her small waist and… and her butt was pressed against his crotch. He almost jumped out of the bed because it was all a little too much all together. He breathed out slowly, trying to calm down but then she moved in her sleep a little and he bit down on his lip. They say you learn something new every day and he just had practical proof of his long-held theory that having the butt of a girl press against his crotch was… oddly inspiring.

 _Oh fuck me…_ he groaned at himself.

He should pull away a bit, turn her over maybe and just try to sleep again, whatever time it was there was no need to really get up yet—

He only just caught his hand drifting up towards her chest. He stopped just short of the soft curve of her chest. Why was he so worried? A little extra contact wouldn’t hurt, just to see what it felt like--

_Nope. Nope. Any way I try to spin this, it’s wrong—_

She squirmed again and Dante mumbled a foul curse under his breath. Her butt rubbed up against him and he became aware that he had a _pressing_ problem. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down but it was really hard to do so with her so close. He cursed his demon-enhanced senses for once. She smelled really good and an evil little voice in the back of his head informed him she’d probably _taste_ real good too. He managed to shimmy away from her just an inch.

_Fuck’s sake, am I the only one who thinks I need to go back a few pages? When did I start thinking the Twig’s hot? When did this happen?_

He regretted thinking that because immediately his traitor mind decided that yes, he absolutely needed to remember that he’d seen her naked. He sighed. She fidgeted in her sleep again and Dante breathed out hard. There was a soft, distressed mumble from her side and she seemed to tense and curl up.

Was she having a nightmare?

He didn’t even realize the automatic response until her back touched his chest again. He had hugged her closer and squeezed softly. Her fidgeting stopped almost at once and he heard a little sigh as her body relaxed. He wanted to laugh. They were kind of pathetic, really. A half-demon and a witch, trying to be normal, functioning teenagers.

He couldn’t sleep again.

He tried to cope. But the warmth and her presence and his stupid thoughts were getting too much. Her back was against his chest – he’d seen that back naked, the pale skin and all the freckles. He’d seen the small waist and her legs and—

Dante carefully pulled away from the sleeping witch and quietly slid out of the bed. He pulled the covers and tucked her in carefully. She’d be warm enough until she woke up. He tip-toed out of the room then paused at the door. He looked back at the bed. Getting away from her felt wrong but he needed some distance to breathe and… take care of something. It was about 11 am. She might wake up soon.

The bathroom was dark when he stepped in. The tap trickled softly – Tess must have left it running a little so the water wouldn’t freeze in the pipes. Good, it might distract him. He let his back rest against the door in the dark. He still felt warm from the contact of her back and absently he touched his chest. Sometimes he felt like his demonic side, from the back of his head, in these quiet moments of his, liked to mock him. Like now; it was definitely scoffing at his weakness, his inability to control his impulses, as human as they were. A demon wouldn’t quibble about things like these; it’d just _take_ whatever it wanted.

“Shit…” he muttered.

It was easy to let his mind wander in the dark and quiet. Her back against his chest, a back he’d seen bare, so pale and smooth. He could practically feel it under his hands, soft and warm. Her sides would be ticklish. Her small waist – how easily his arm had rested there. He’d love to slide his arms around it entirely, trap her there against him. Her legs, toned and slender; they would feel shaky as he caressed them, her thighs would be soft. And all the freckles.

Like sprinkles on a cake.

With a small grunt, Dante tugged at the strings of his sweatpants.

She’d probably snark him. In a weird way he liked that. She would never cow to his nonsense, his grandstanding – even a predatory approach, she’d still hold her ground and refuse to be frightened. He bet she’d look at him defiantly as he pinned her to the bed and tucked his face into her neck. Her breathing would be shaky. He’d run his hands up her sides, slide them to her chest and find those pert little breasts he’d seen.

His hand gripped his half-mast cock as he sucked in air through his teeth. Her mouth would always taste of chocolate and cherries. It was soft and uncertain. She was wearing black underwear, so dark against her white skin. It suited her so well, pressed against him as she was with her little breasts flush against his chest. He felt her fingers in his hair, playing with the silver locks lazily. His hands were on her ass, firm and so nicely rounded, grinding her against him.

“Good girl…” he breathed. “Just like that…”

His heart twisted when he thought of her kissing him. It was warm and tasted sweet and he was greedy. Little girlish kisses weren’t enough. She tasted good and he wanted more. Something dark in him wanted everything. He licked his lips.

His fist pumped faster. They were standing, he had her pinned against a wall and was tasting her neck, always arched in challenge, daring him to try and give her attitude. The black underwear was pulled off and he happily towered over her, touching everything he had been allowed to see and everything he dared to imagine.

“More,” she whispered in his ear.

Her hair streamed down her shoulders, undulating like waves. His back hurt. His arms were lead. He was painfully close. He almost bit down on his lip. His teeth felt sharp.

“Say… my name…” he growled quietly.

Her arms draped on his shoulders in surrender were feather-light and her fingers in his hair was torture. “Dante… please.”

He nearly banged the back of his head against the door while gritting out her name quietly and his entire body tensed. It felt achingly _good,_ the feeling creeping up his spine and then across his body as he slumped against the door and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. He breathed hard and half-blindly groped his way to grab some tissue paper to clean himself up and then mopped up the evidence of his jerk-off from the floor. He braced against the sink and opened the tap to wash his face.

The water was frozen. Good, he fucking deserved it.

He staggered out a few moments later when he was sure that he was calm – even though stupid thoughts still clung to the edges of his consciousness. He ambled back to his room, checking the weather outside through one of the windows; high winds and flurries of snow. Great. He almost jumped at the click of a door near him. He whipped around and saw Tess’ door swing shut softly.

 _Looks like she woke up…_ he thought and padded back to his room.

Seeing his bed empty wrought another twist in his chest he couldn’t explain. Irritated, he changed and went downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, explicit awkward kissing content to follow

When Tess finally left her room, she found Dante in front of the lit fireplace when she got downstairs. He balanced a pot on the grate and then sat back down on one of the cushions, dragged out of the pillow fort. He looked troubled and she bit her lip. His aura was a bit funny too and she felt bad for essentially prying.

“Hi,” she ventured, approaching wrapped in a blanket over her clothes.

“Morning,” he responded with a sigh. “I got started without ya,” he said, gesturing to the fire.

“Sorry,” she said meekly. “I felt a bit iffy this morning. Didn’t notice you get up.”

He said nothing, just stretched. She fetched two mugs and the cocoa mix and they sat in silence, drinking hot cocoa when the milk had warmed enough.

“The weather is ass,” he said. “We’re gonna be buried at this rate.”

“I know. Big blizzard. And we still don’t have power,” she replied. “I’m sick of this dumb season.”

“Miss your bed yet?” he chuckled.

She stared at the fire. “No.”

She got up before he could process it and answer and went to the fridge. “We should grill some of those burgers and sausages in the fridge before they spoil.”

He never got to retort to that little declaration of hers because they got busy trying to sort out how to cook the food without burning it or getting soot everywhere. The entire time, Tess was all too aware that she was jumpy. She was also very aware that he knew because he scrutinized her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Or he had other reasons to stare at her.

_I keep feeling like we’re a pair of idiots,_ she thought.

That morning she’d done something incredibly stupid; in his goddamn bed. Because it smelled so much of him and his warmth. It involved her thinking way too much of Dante and then required her to stealth-dash to her bedroom so she could change. She was amazed that he didn’t come back soon enough to catch her. She probably would’ve just died then and there if he had. She nearly died anyway, between what she did and why he left the room so suddenly. Her face felt hot and it wasn’t because she was crouching so close to the fire. Hopefully he assumed she’d been asleep. And now she had to sit here, fussing with the fireplace and grilling tools, right next to the goddamn idiot. She felt stupid. She _was_ stupid—

“Ow!”

Tess almost fell on her butt, she whipped away from the fireplace that fast.

“Shitpickles!”

“Wha -- Shitpickles? Really, Twig?” Dante chuckled.

Tess shook her hand quickly and pouted at him. “Oh shut up, like you haven’t said your fair share of bullshit,” she grumbled.

He bent down to help her get up. “Y’alright?”

Tess bent her wrist to examine the rapidly reddening spot at the outer base of her wrist. “I bumped the fucking skillet. I think I’ll live.”

She went to the sink to run some water over it.

Dante followed her with his gaze. “Ya sure?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. I’ve got some aloe cream stashed around here…”

_Snap out of it, you idiot_ , she told herself.

They ate in the pillow fort while listening to the radio, which warned of the blizzard currently hitting them lasting for most of the morning and of further dropping temperatures.

“Jeez, stick us in the icebox, why don’t you?” Tess grumbled, biting into a burger. “Maybe you’re right, Chernobog could be back and just putting us in the freezer out of _spite.”_

“Yeah, talk about petty,” Dante chortled. “Can’t beat a pair of kids, freeze ‘em to death.”

Tess stabbed into a pickle with her fork vindictively. “Fuck him.”

“Dunno if the fireplace will cut it, Twig. We should do something to keep warm,” Dante mused. “If it wasn’t so shitty outside I’d go have a look for demons…”

“Not a bad idea,” she said, contemplating. “Say, do you know how to dance? Like… waltz and stuff.”

Dante quirked an eyebrow at her. “No. Why?”

 “Wanna learn?”

He chuckled. “You know how to waltz, Twig?”

She smiled wryly. “General ballroom dancing. Roy gets bored a lot. Hey, tell you what, you can show me how to handle a sword.”

He laughed even more, but not in a mocking way. “Seriously? You wanna know how to use a sword?”

“Just the basics, anyway.”

“So you’re proposing a trade,” he insisted, eyebrow bowing up. “Sword lessons for waltz lessons.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Like we have something better to do.”

He grinned and nodded sagely. “Touché.”

They finished eating in silence, tuning the radio to a station they could both tolerate. They ate like hungry wolf cubs, particularly Dante, which made Tess consider that tomorrow they might _really_ need to brave this bullshit weather and get some food. They cleaned up and piled more logs in the fire to keep warm. They settled in the pillow fort for a while, Tess trying to read her book and Dante perusing a gun magazine he brought from upstairs.

Tess kept peeking over her book at him, trying to interpret what the hell he might’ve been thinking. But he was just lying stretched out on the pile of pillows and blankets that was the pillow fort floor, flicking through the magazine. She frowned. His aura looked weird. Like a restless dog pacing around a room. She got a little distracted when he rolled over on his stomach, thinking what stupid long legs he had. Even when he just walked she just about had to skip to keep up with him.

She almost smacked herself with her book when she absently thought that he had nice thighs.

Fortunately, soon after that, Dante decided he was bored of reading. “Well then Twig, ready for my waltz lesson when you are.”

She almost yelped because he actually caught her peeking over the book. She put it down and they got out of the fort, choosing the lobby for their little lesson, because it was more spacious than the lounge at this point. They plonked the radio on Roy’s desk, set it to a station they liked (Tess said the music itself didn’t matter _too_ much) and Tess went about teaching him the basics of a waltz.

“I’m starting to think you just wanted me to hold you,” Dante chuckled when she finished showing him how to hold his partner. His arm was around her waist and he held her hand with the other.

“I’d be more scandalized if we hadn’t already been sharing a bed,” Tess scoffed. “Now pay attention, I’m gonna lead for a bit and watch your damn feet.”

It took a few tries but Dante was remarkably quick on the uptake of dancing steps. Soon enough he was leading like a pro and after some trial runs he started getting bold and they threw waltz out of the window to dance whatever they felt like. Tess was too busy putting all her energy into keeping up with him as he seemed to acquire the same kind of insane dexterity in dancing as he had in a fight. Unrefined but entirely precise. She stared doubting herself when his hands started to grip a little tighter and his hold on her waist got firmer. His hands _travelled_ while they danced. But she wasn’t paying attention, they danced body to body now and she found herself led along to a maddening pace that finally ended with him leading her into a rapid double twirl and a dangerously low dip that saw her hair sweep along the floor.

She blinked from the daze of the dance, staring at the wall and then she shivered a bit at his hard breathing against her neck.

“Well, damn,” she blurted after a few seconds of silence.

He chortled awkwardly and pulled her back up. Winded and with achy legs, she grabbed onto him for some support and they both broke into giggles.

“That was beautiful, Twig,” he chuckled. “And you did everything _backwards!_ ”

“Damn right I did,” she panted. “But holy shit, you got that too fast.”

He flashed a cheesy grin and shrugged. “I strive to impress, Twig.”

He didn’t take his hand off her waist immediately, and she sort of felt like he was… more than happy to let it stay there for a while until she broke away gently and wrapped herself in her blanket again.

“Let’s take a break and we’ll see if you can’t teach me how to hold a sword at least…” she chuckled.

He smiled stiffly at her and followed. They rested in the pillow fort after stirring the fire a little and grilled the rest of the burgers and sausages from their lunch for dinner. While they ate, Dante reluctantly told her some stories about demons he’d run into while travelling around and she told him about wiccan things, like the wards of protection set around the building. Sated and ready to kill some more time, they got two brooms from Roy’s cleaning closet and Dante set about teaching her how to treat it like a sword.

He wasn’t as good a teacher as she had been and she chuckled through most of his efforts to show how to hold it because he kept finding fault with his instruction.

“Shit, I feel like I’ve always known this stuff but I’m not sure how to _teach_ it,” he said thoughtfully after the fifth unsuccessful try.

“Or you really don’t know what you’re doing and everything I’ve seen you do has been a series of outstanding improvisations,” she offered helpfully.

“Shush,” he snorted. “Uuuh… here, let’s try this—“

He moved behind her quickly and Tess tensed suddenly to feel his chest right up against her back. He reached out and grabbed her wrists gently. He had big, warm hands and she bit her lip a little bit.

“Like… this,” he said quietly, practically in her ear as he positioned her hands on the broomstick in a position that felt like it gave her the best leverage with it.

“O-okaaay…” she hesitated.

“Try an overhead swing… yep… like _so!”_

At his emphasis she brought down the stick in a highly controlled swing after raising it straight over her head.

“Sweet, you got the idea for the grip,” he praised her. “Now uuuh… I guess about your stance—“

She yelped a bit when he bent down and grabbed her leg to move it so her weight was distributed more evenly and favored a strong forward momentum.

“Give it a try now and move your lead foot forward.”

She did as told and found that her swing and step carried her forward with unusual force. “That good?”

“Of course it is, I taught ya!”

She snickered but over the next few hours she picked up enough for them to try a simple exercise together. Tess was a bit reluctant.

“Are you sure? We’ve already caused each other some damage these last few days,” she said.

“We’ll be fine, takes more than a broomstick to scare me, Twig,” he chuckled as they faced each other like opponents.

At his countdown she lunged just like he’d shown her and like they practiced. The broomsticks knocked together with a dry _thunk!_ as he parried and then again as she advanced again, forcing him back. He then countered by stepping forward into her space, forcing her back and she raised her stick to catch his high swing and then quickly tilted her stick to parry the low one that followed it.

“Hey you’re getting’ good!” he praised her.

She scowled a little because he really wasn’t swinging all that fast. She set her jaw and picked up her pace, swinging from the side and to her frustration, he parried it with a sudden flick.

“Ooh, tryin’ to get sneaky, are we?” he teased.

She just growled a little at him and just went for a low swing that she was sure she _nearly_ got past him because he had to sidestep to be able to parry and when he made to swing for her head again she actually saw it coming and ducked under it easily, going for his knee. He parried it but she then went for his right arm.

“Hehehe, take it easy, you’re doin’ fine!”

This back and forth carried on until Tess started getting tired and during a careless moment she pulled back too soon and instead of parrying Dante actually knocked the broomstick clean out of her hands. The impact spun it around so abruptly that Tess threw herself backwards to avoid catching the stick end to the face but Dante, probably concerned for her, stepped right into it and got hit right in the face by the bristle end.

“Oh!”

“Oof!”

The broom clattered on the floor and Dante brought his hand to his face, laughing. “Holy shit,” he chuckled.

“Oh man, the universe has it out for your schnozz, I swear,” Tess blurted.

“No shit,” he concurred, chortling. “Yeesh, face-full of bristles. Good thing Roy doesn’t use this one to sweep outside.” He rubbed his nose awkwardly.

She hooted quietly. “You’re ok though, right?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just sore.”

“Aww… want me to kiss it better?”

_Oh my god what the fuck just came flying out of my mouth?!_ she thought immediately.

They both froze a little and he stared down at her with an awkward smile. “Go for it,” he said quietly and stooped a bit.

Mentally cursing her everything and wishing the earth would open up under her feet, she reached up and gently cupped his cheeks. Then she pushed herself up to her toes and left a soft little peck on his nose. She’d half closed her eyes and when she opened them and looked up she found that he had been watching her with a kind of wide-eyed attention that was a bit alarming.

“Better?” she quipped.

“Yeah,” he managed. “But uh… now I owe you one, don’t I?”

She snorted, ready to dismiss him. But then she realized he was entirely serious. “For what?”

“Head-butting you into next week.”

She snickered. “Um, okay.”

He cupped her cheek with his hand – it was very warm – and stooped a little more to softly kiss the tip of her nose. She shrugged a little and wrinkled her nose cutely then bit her lip. “That’s nice.”

He smiled awkwardly down at her and she noticed… his cheeks were a bit red. But hell, she loved his eyes.

“Hey…” she muttered. “You… owe me one, now that I think about it.”

“What?”

“You fucked up… my first,” she stammered. “So you… owe me.”

He blinked at her a few times, their foreheads touching by now. “I… didn’t think you were gonna go for it,” he blurted.

She gulped. “Well I am. So… what—“

He tilted her face upwards and she closed her eyes just as he planted his lips on hers. She leaned into him, fingers closing around handfuls of his shirt just in case he thought of backing off. His lips were warm and she thought they might’ve trembled a little, like fighting the urge to do more than just press against hers. Almost by way of experiment, she parted her lips and nibbled on his and was almost spooked by the soft whine that came from his throat. His other hand went for her waist, like when they danced. He pulled her close and sucked softly on her lower lip and she sighed unexpectedly at the tingly feeling it produced. He seemed reluctant to let her go but they both pulled away, just bumping foreheads lightly.

“We, uh… should go sleep,” he managed. “It’s getting cold.

“Sure,” she whispered.

They parted, almost suddenly and the moment shattered. Tess hurried to put out the fireplace with a hurried flick of her wrist and almost tripped over a chair in her distracted state, while Dante’s footsteps up the stairs were unusually slow and ponderous. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where I put you all out of your misery

Dante sniffed a little as he pulled his sweatpants up. He was still reeling a little from what had happened a few minutes earlier. _I got a dance and a kiss. I actually kissed her._

And then he chided himself. What was he getting all excited about?! They were just fooling around like idiots, weren’t they? The dancing was just a lark, a joke, something to kill time. Except it had felt better than that. She was so light and nimble in his arms, her waist and thighs swishing and twirling easily and smoothly.

He sat at the edge of his bed and huffed quietly. He glanced at the covers. Three nights in a row now, they’d be sleeping together. It was funny how that brought out so many unexpected feelings in him.

 _Who knew that all it took for me to wake up and smell the roses, was to get her in my bed,_ he thought irritably. _It’s all ass-backwards._

He wasn’t sure what she thought about this. She was so damn guarded and coy but he suspected that she… just might be having thoughts somewhere along the same lines. She probably thought he hadn’t seen her peeking over her book at him earlier or that she seemed jumpier around him.

It was difficult not to think about these things right now, with her scent in his room. It was one of the weirder traits he had as a half-demon and the one that usually caused him the most inconvenience. His sense of smell was sharp enough to remember people’s scent. Tess’ was diffused with the sweet smell of her hand-lotion and on a different level, the lingering sensation of a lit fire and fresh, bitter herbs. Although his room would always be overwhelmingly crowded with his own, familiar scent, hers lingered in the corners and he… liked that.

He sniffed again and blinked. Her trace felt stronger than usual and he was sure she hadn’t been in his room since this morning. He sniffed again, more attentively and felt it coming from his bed. From her side. He was about to lift the covers in curiosity when she knocked on his door. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and told her to come in.

She seemed unusually shy to walk in this time because she peeked her head in first and then shuffled in, with the blanket awkwardly draped across her shoulders. He couldn’t stop his eyebrows from bowing up. She had swapped her pajamas for a black sweater with white striped arms that was about a size too big. It stopped at her thighs and for a second he assumed she wasn’t wearing anything else but then she tugged the drooping neckline up her shoulder while closing the door and he saw she was wearing boyshorts. They were black and that’s all he noticed because then his eyes followed her legs.

He bit his lip and just about _heard_ his brain screaming What is she doing wearing that?

“Hey, what happened to the jammies?” he asked and managed to avoid the hitch in his throat.

“I spilled something on them,” she said vaguely. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

She unceremoniously climbed on the bed and wormed under the covers in her side. She whined quietly as her legs came in contact with the cold mattress. Dante let her climb in without staring because he suddenly had a weird thought that made his face feel warm. He said nothing until they were both under the covers face to face. She didn’t squirm up to him like she had last night. She’d backed up against the wall again and tugged the blanket up to her nose. He breathed out and now he was sure. It was a wicked thought, to be sure, but it was far too potent to ignore.

“Hey, Twig.”

“What?”

Dante shimmied a little closer to her and reached out for her hands. They were half-buried in her baggy sleeves but they were cold. “You’re cold.”

“Any other observations, Captain Obvious?” she said impatiently.

“Surprised you’re not trying to dry-hump me again,” he said cheekily.

“Oh ha-ha-ha, you’re a real comedian,” she growled.

She was shivering and her legs squirmed restlessly, like she was rubbing them together for warmth.

“So you had no other pajama bottoms, Twig?” he asked pointedly.

She seemed to draw back even further at that question but she was up against the wall. “That’s none of your business. You know we were gonna do laundry the day the power went.”

He smiled wickedly. He could tell she was lying. “So you’re not nervous that your legs are bare? Because that’s what it feels like.”

“What if I am, asshat?” she mumbled defensively.

He could see in the gloom that her face was fixed in a little scowl. “Well I’m just saying there’s no point now,” he said and drew close. “We’ve done the cuddling and the spooning and besides…”

He bumped foreheads with her softly. “I’ve already seen you naked.”

She glared at him but didn’t move. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

His next sentence was a plunge. Either he crashed and burned, or…

“It does, because I can’t stop thinking about it,” he dared.

She stopped squirming and just stared blankly at what little she could probably see of him. He’d expected her to start stuttering or nervously fidgeting while giving him a lot of shit. Instead, she finally rolled over, turning her back at him.

“You can’t say stuff like that and expect me to get worked up for your amusement. Dipshit,” she muttered.

Dante exhaled and stared at the back of her neck as she curled up, facing the wall. The nape of her neck was exposed as her hair settled against the mattress. Well now he was annoyed. He did not like being ignored and right now he wouldn’t quite put up with her irritation.

“Oh but I think you are,” he said and pushed up against her, worming his arm under and around her to hug her and pull her against his chest. “And you’re gonna freeze if you don’t come here.”

“Hey!” she blurted. “What are you doing?”

“Can we cut the bullshit,” he sighed. “You’re freezing and like I said, it’s _fine_. That’s what you’re here for in the first place. Unless…” He whispered in her ear. “You’re nervous because you remembered that this is _my_ bed you’re in?”

 _I’m making a huge, asinine mistake here,_ he thought. _But now it’s too late._

She fit against him so nicely and it felt so _right_ to have her there. So right, in fact, that a knot in his chest relaxed every time she was there. On the other hand… an evil little voice in the back of his mind started to get greedy.

She made a funny little irritated noise and her body grew tense. “So what? I’m surprised you’re holding it together!” she countered. “This morning you fled for your life because you couldn’t handle that my butt was against your crotch.”

Dante blinked and then smiled wickedly when she froze. Sounds like she had blurted something she didn’t mean to. “Heh, so you _were_ awake?”

“You were _rubbing_ against me.”

“I was trying not to but you kept trying to back up into me, Twig,” he said, trying and failing not to laugh. “And demon shit aside, I _am_ still a boy.”

“Y’don’t say,” she snarked. “If anyone’s been dry-humping, it’s you.”

Even so she was relaxing against him and mock-slapped his arm with her hand. He grinned. Her frustration was cute.

“Lies and deceit, Twig.”

She hesitated for a moment. “Oh please, you ran away to jerk off.”

He grinned at her bluntness, trying to corner him. Well, two can play that game. “I confess nothing. But that’s a bold accusation to make.”

“I’m not naïve, Dante,” she replied irritably. “I know little boys like to play with themselves when they can’t handle a girl’s butt making contact with their crotch.”

He felt wicked now. “And little girls don’t?” he asked back and it made her start a little.

“That’s beside the point.”

“No, I think it’s precisely the point,” he said carefully. “Are you maybe… _flattered_ I had to go take care of it?”

“N-now you’re just screwing with me.”

“Why would I?”

“You like to make fun of me.”

“True, but I’m not making fun of you now, Twig.”

She didn’t reply.

“I mean it, Tess,” he insisted. “Answer my question.”

Her shoulders hunched slowly. “…Maybe I am. I think… maybe I was on your mind.”

“You sure were,” he said quietly. “You really don’t know how pretty you are, huh?”

“You literally call me Twig because I’m skinny,” she snapped.

He could practically _hear_ the blushing on her face. It was just as well she was facing away from him because even in the dark she might’ve been able to see his face getting warm too.

“Yeah well, you sure showed me,” he chortled and squeezed her against him gently. “I’ll always call you Twig now but I think you’re growing out of it.”

“Very funny…” she groused but he could tell she was smiling.

“So… now that we got _that_ outta the way, how about answering my other question,” he said slyly.

“Which one?”

“About what little girls get up to when they’re all hot and bothered.”

“I’m not getting into that,” she said quickly.

“Oh? Well let me ask you something,” he said and leaned in so he whispered directly in her ear. “Were you doing _something_ after I left the room? In my bed?”

She froze and hunched her shoulders in what must only have been the deepest embarrassment. She said nothing, just nervously tugged the bottom of her sweater down and Dante felt her move her legs, presumably to tuck her hands over her crotch. She just made an awkward little noise.

“Well?” he pressed her gently. “Careful now, because your scent’s all over my bed. You almost had me fooled, but I guess coming in without your pajamas blew it.”

He relished how nervous he was making her. All she could say in response was a series of stuttering noises. “That’s not…” she breathed.

“I’m flattered, is all I’m saying.”

She made an angry little noise but her hand came up to touch his. “I confess to nothing,” she muttered.

He chuckled and boldly pressed his lips on her bare shoulder. “Was I good to ya?”

She didn’t answer immediately. “I…guess.”

“You guess?” he chuckled. “If you made a mess of your pajamas, Twig, I think I deserve some credit.”

She sounded an angry little noise and swatted his hand but she sank against him and sighed. “…You’re a dick, you know that?”

“You never fail to remind me,” he chuckled. Then he gulped a bit and added. “So now that we’re on the same level… you seem a bit bothered. Can I…help?”

She relaxed against him and he tucked his legs around her form, trying to fight back the trepidation that was making his heart gallop like an out-of-control horse against his chest. His hand creeped up from her waist and hesitant fingers finally rested over her breast.

He blinked. “You… aren’t wearing a bra,” he said sheepishly.

She snickered and her tension seemed to be melting. “It’s not comfortable to sleep in the damn things,” she squeaked.

They were softer than he expected, even with the sweater. Not as small as he’d thought either and they felt delicate. She shivered a little and it was such a spontaneous response that Dante gulped.

“Uh… don’t freak out on me, okay?” he said. “Stop me whenever you want.”

“R-right…”

Her squirming made him hiss quietly as her butt came in direct contact with his crotch. Her sweater had hiked up. He experimentally kissed the back of her neck and got a cute, startled sound out of her. She seemed to be waiting for his next move so he let his hands wander a bit and after cupping both breasts, he found her nipples, slowly getting harder through her shirt.

“I think you like this,” he teased.

“Oh my god, are you going to run commentary the entire time!?” she grumbled.

“Heh, sorry Twig.”

He heard a little whine as he spoke with his lips still pressed against her skin. She smelled so good right then, he almost wanted to lick her just to see if she really did taste good but instead he left a little kiss on the back of her neck and then another further aside, moving along her shoulder while caressing her breasts. On a whim, he gently pinched the nipples and got a startled squirm from her. Her butt pressed against him and he absently ground his hips against her. Her legs were restless and he decided to take the plunge. He let his hand creep lower slowly to where she had tugged the bottom of her sweater. She was holding it wedged with one hand between her legs and seemed very reluctant to let go. He rested his hand over hers.

“Hey come on, you gotta trust me a bit,” he whispered and reaching over, kissed under her ear then tugged at the earlobe with his lips.

Her shaking arms relaxed and he slipped his hand under the shirt. He smiled at how soft her boyshorts felt, nice and snug against her. The urge to tease her was too much to fight.

“These are nice but I miss those cute purple panties,” he said slyly, wanting to make her squirm – and it worked.

“Sh-shut up!” she squeaked and shut her legs around his hand.

He kissed her neck again and tugged the sweater free from her hands. He slid his hand under it and bared her chest at last. Her skin was so soft that he needed a moment to process it and not freak out himself while her breathing grew faster. She moaned when he cupped her naked breasts and squeezed gently, then more firmly when she responded. He bit back a moan as her ass ground hard against him and his hips rocked forward. The pressure was distracting.

He caressed her breasts with one hand, experimenting with tweaking, pinching or twisting the nipples carefully. They were hard and yet yielding in his fingers and he licked his lips, pleased. Her head whipped towards him when he cupped his other hand over her mound and her legs squeezed him nervously. He nuzzled her cheek.

“You good?”

She nodded frantically and again ground against him. He hissed quietly through his teeth, feeling a vague dampness in her boyshorts. A tension spread through him, starting from his loins. He pressed his exploring fingers against the soft material and the yield made him bite back a gasp while she squeaked. He let his hand stroke softly and she blurted a little whine until he finally wormed his fingers under the band of her shorts. Her skin was hot and his fingers trembled as he pushed them further towards her legs, over soft fuzz. When they found the moist little secret between her legs, a moan escaped her and she gasped in surprise.

She’d told him to shut up but honestly, when had that ever worked? “Am I doing good?” he _purred_.

She didn’t answer, but by her syncopated breathing, he assumed that he was. Which was good because he was starting to flounder a little; this was almost completely uncharted territory for him. He dragged his fingers along the moist folds, marveling at how hot they felt. His fingers bumped into a little nub that made her buck against his hand when he touched it and he tried small, circular rubs. She twitched and ground against his hand with a choked moan. She moved her arms and he thought she might’ve tried to muffle her voice with her hand but he heard faint squeaks and moans. He exhaled through his teeth and buried his face in her hair, grinding himself against her ass and tweaked her nipple again, enjoying how she bucked against him. 

He finally felt brave enough to slowly push one finger in her and she moaned, squirming against him and tightening her legs around his hand. It felt so warm and slick and inviting and his half-mast cock just about jumped at the feeling. A few moments later he wormed a second finger in and she babbled at him to slow down but that sensitivity and responsiveness was so undiluted he didn’t want to lose it. She rocked her pelvis against his hand and he nuzzled her neck hungrily, finally giving in and dragging his teeth on her skin. His fingers moved faster.  

His hand was soaked and she just about writhed in his arms, still trying to muffle her voice. She was shaking and he whispered in her ear: “Stop trying to be so stoic, it’s okay.”

“Shut up—“ she blurted and the rest was lost in a mewl when he slid his wet fingers out and rubbed the sensitive little nub again.

“Wait, I can’t—“ she stammered.

But it was too late, she was pressed against him and her hand slapped onto his to guide him and he brought his other hand down to caress her while he thrust his fingers in. He leaned back a little and she bucked into him, and he rolled over on his back, with her against his chest. She spread her legs halfway, giving him better access. Her other hand reached up and her trembling fingers found his cheek.

“Damn,” he mumbled, feeling her shake and then tense against, twitching. A loud, wet moan rolled from her throat and she immediately covered her mouth with her hands. Her body felt like it was constricting around his fingers as her back arched. She breathed erratically for a few moments and finally slumped against him as he drew his fingers out slowly. A sound like a purr rumbled out of his throat as he hugged her.

“Let go of me.”

He froze. That… that was an order. In her old, cold tone, the kind that had greeted him in the first days when she didn’t trust him. His playful mood drained away.

_Shit…I went overboard._

He loosened his hold and felt her slide out of his arms and he bit lip while quietly chiding himself with frustration. He didn’t understand, why didn’t she stop him and why didn’t _he_ notice that she wanted him to stop? Had he missed something? Had he said or done something stupid? Had he missed something? She finally rolled over, trying to keep the covers over them.

He opened his mouth to say something, she cupped his face in both hands and he felt her kiss him firmly. He blinked, surprised, for a whole second before he grabbed her, one arm around her waist and the other catching her wrist to deter any ideas of escape. She backed off for a moment and breathed in shakily but he reeled back in and kissed her back, deeper. Her lips parted and he groaned in her mouth when their tongues made hesitant contact that spooked them both into parting again.

But he dove back in, this time nuzzling her neck and kissing along her jaw while his hands pulled her flush against him. He didn’t care if she felt his erection through his sweatpants, he wanted to kiss her more because she smelled so good now that it was maddening. He yelped a bit when their noses bumped as she tried to respond and they giggled like fools.

“Sorry…”

“You may have a point about my nose,” he wheezed.

But the joke helped them both relax because when he kissed her again this time it felt easy and he confidently teased her tongue with his before he let go and tugged her lip between his teeth softly, letting her breathe.

“Why’d you get upset?” he finally asked.

She grumbled. “I panicked a little,” she said meekly. “It-it just kind of crashed into me and I didn’t know what to do. You almost gave me a heart-attack.”

He wheezed a little, thumping his head against the pillow. “That’s it?” he said helplessly.

“I kinda wanted to turn around but uh, you weren’t stopping…”

“Damn, Twig… you’re weird. But cute.”

“Your face is weird,” she countered bluntly and then nuzzled into his neck. He smiled but as much as he’d like to cuddle, he had a pressing need now and just hands were never going to be enough. He slid his hands down once more and finally cupped them around the grand prize: her buttocks. He cooed softly before he could stop himself. They were toned and firm and yet at the same time so delightfully _squishy_. Oh yes, he _liked_ this.

“Hey, where do you think you’re grabbing!” she blurted as he pressed her against him.

He licked his lips. “Relax,” he purred. “I’ve been thinking about this for three days now, let me have it.”

She huffed a little irritably and he kissed her forehead. He slid his hands under the shorts again, loving the feel of her butt and the squeak that she made when he ground her against his hard cock. She definitely noticed because she tilted her head back to try and look at him in the dark. He kissed her for her troubles. He rolled on his back under the covers and wordlessly invited her to lay on top of him, which she did and he felt her fingers slide into his hair while she kissed him. He murmured happily because that felt unexpectedly good. Especially when he slid his fingers under her boyshorts and squeezed her butt, it made her fingers close around some of his hair and tug slightly which agreed with him enough to elicit a happy rumble from him. He sneaked his hand lower and felt her jump.

 _Ah-ha, sensitive, are we…?_  

“I think we better get these off before they get totally ruined,” he said cheekily and snapped the band of her boyshorts slightly.

“Cut that out,” she chuckled at him and rolled off him.

She reached down and bending her legs, slipped out of the boyshorts, which she casually reached out and tossed over the edge of the bed, much to his amusement. Then she hesitated and finally sat up and pulled off the sweater too, sending it to join the shorts on the floor. There was just enough light for him to see her skin, goosebumped from the cold and the excitement. He closed his hand around her wrist.

“C’mere, before you freeze,” he said softly and drew her under the covers with him.

There in the dark and warmth with her he felt comfortable and almost soothed, but for his aching loins. Seeing her completely bare made something in his chest twist, a little darkly perhaps because it demanded he claim her immediately and in a way that was far from what he wanted. He pushed it away because she cuddled up to him and her hands explored his chest curiously, pressing into the muscle greedily and teasingly poking his nipples, making him laugh.

She craned her neck and kissed his lips, then down his chin to his neck and his skin was alive to every one of them. He combed his fingers through her hair, smiling at how it tangled – she’d have a hell of a bed-head tomorrow.  He sighed to feel her stiff nipples press into his chest.

“Aren’t you getting brave,” he grinned.

“A girl’s gotta have fun,” she snorted. 

As much as he enjoyed himself now, he was feeling a little uncomfortable. Tess seemed to sense it when he huffed and squirmed so she leaned back and squinted down at him in the dark quizzically.

“Are you ok?”

He propped himself up on his elbow. “Yeah, hang on, this is… getting tight,” he muttered and reached down to fumble with his sweatpants’ cord and then finally pulled them down and toed them off, along with his briefs. It certainly felt good to be free of the constricting clothes at last and he hissed a little as his cock rubbed against the bedcovers piled on them and then rested against his stomach before perking up. It was almost fully hard now. He blinked at her in the dark, trying to discern how she was handling the situation because she was really quite.

“Hey… you good?”

Tess said nothing, propped up on her elbows beside him then suddenly got to her knees, trying awkwardly to keep the covers on her back and reached over him, groping along the night-table next to his bed. Her breasts hung over him tantalizingly and he made her yelp by kissing one sneakily.

“Not that I mind the view, but what are you doing?” he chuckled.

“I need a fucking flashlight,” she groused. “I’m sick of trying to squint in the dark.”

He cackled a bit. “I keep forgetting you can’t see as well as I can.”

She growled and finally snatched a flashlight from the table. “I know. I can see the future and shit but I’m still blind as a bat in the dark.”

“Need to inspect the goods, huh?” he joked as she clicked it on and after some fumbling, secured it to the windowsill over his head, pointed at them.

She snorted and got back under the covers. “More like make sure you’ve got a normal human dick—“

Her snark stopped dead as Dante could happily appreciate that in the low light she looked proper flustered and flushed. The blush had even crept down to her shoulders, it was so cute! He licked his lips slowly; he allowed his eyes to travel downwards and saw freckles scattered across her shoulders and a few even down towards her breasts. He wanted to laugh at the slight look of panic that crossed her face. She was propped up on her elbow and her eyes were fixed down at his crotch and she looked like she wasn’t sure what to do.

 _If that’s not an ‘oh shit, a dick’ face, I don’t know what would be_ … he thought and it took all he had not to say that out loud.

“Do you need a moment?” he asked helpfully.

“Shut up,” she blurted reflexively. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that. It’s just…”

“I can wait,” he said and smiled wryly. He really couldn’t, but that look on her face brought out some chivalry in him.

She made a funny helpless noise and stuffed her face in the pillow to laugh at herself momentarily, then came back up. “I shouldn’t be freaking out; I know what dicks look like.”

“Ooh, I’m your first live one,” he hooted.

“ _Really_ shut up, this time,” she hissed. “Can I… touch it?” she then asked.

Dante wanted to laugh with her awkwardness, it was so adorable. “Sure you can,” he said, holding back a smirk. He wondered what she’d do.

They sat up a little, propped on the pillows and pulled the extra blanket over and around their backs. She cuddled up to him and he wrapped his arm over her shoulders to keep her warm. She looked nervous and hesitant but she reached out and touched it with her fingertips carefully, testing the waters. He smiled and then bit his lip when she rubbed the tip a little, her mouth sagging in wonder. He tensed as a tingle crept from the tip of his dick all the way along his spine.

“Penny for your thoughts, Twig…” he breathed out.

“I, um… didn’t think they got this hard… and it’s so warm,” she blurted and then bit her lips together, embarrassed.

All the same she didn’t take her hand away, prodding and rubbing it gently with her fingers, almost experimentally; between the light circling over his tip and her fingers dragging along the shaft, acquainting themselves with the shape, Dante bit down on his lip harder from how unexpectedly _good_ that hesitant and clumsy touch felt. It was almost unbearable and it just made him harder. She didn’t even notice! Or if she did, she was too embarrassed to say.

“Wait,” he panted at last. “Tess,” he chuckled. “Don’t… poke it like that. It’s… too much.”

“Ah!” She pulled her hand away, fidgeting. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was that—“

He caught her hand gently and tugged her closer, putting her hand against his cock again. “I didn’t say stop,” he said slyly and guided her to wrap her hand around the tip. “Try this.”

He heard her gulp a little and she couldn’t look at him as her shoulders hunched up. “Is this alright?” she asked, her hand moving slowly and stroking him.

He exhaled softly because her hand was warm and soft. “Yeah. Grip it a little harder, don’t be afraid to go faster.”

He sank against the pillows because she just took what he said and ran with it, her slender fingers wandering along his length and her hold squeezing him lightly. He fought back a gasp as her stroking grew faster gradually. His cock throbbed with anticipation and he felt some precum leak from the tip. She watched with embarrassed fascination and he gritted out a little whine when her thumb rubbed over the tip, spreading the liquid along and he inhaled sharply.

“It’s… um, bigger than I thought it’d be,” she muttered and almost groaned at herself.

Dante suppressed a chuckle and bit his lip because he absently bucked his thighs up into her hand. “D-don’t worry,” he said and reached out to cup the back of her head, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be… _unh!_ Good…”

Nope. He couldn’t take this any longer. They sank into the mattress together and he rolled over her, tucking his face into her neck and hovering over her on his knees and elbows, every muscle tense with anticipation. Her hand still stroked him slowly now and he ground into her grip, but her other hand wrapped around some of his hair, caressing his head as he nipped her skin, not bothering to hold back. It tasted so good and he dragged one hand along her stomach to tease her folds. His dick throbbed at the contact and she mewled in his mouth.

He kissed her softly and then pressed his forehead to hers, hissing as his fully erect cock now throbbed almost painfully and he rested it against her stomach.

“I… can’t wait any longer,” he muttered, his nose bumping hers softly.

“Hey, um… you’re forgetting something…” she whispered.

He opened his eyes and stared quizzically. “Wha…?”

“A condom!” she hissed at him.

“Oh shit!” he blurted and rolled off her. She was right. The last thing they both needed was… well, _that._

“Do you have any?” she whispered and he almost snickered at how desperate she sounded.

Now he reached over to the night-table, fumbling with the top and then the drawer and rummaging around it frantically. _Good job_ , he told himself, _throwing in here every little shit I find!_

“I do – where the fuck did I put it—“ he knocked his hand against a knife – what the hell was that even doing in there?!—“Ow ow… shit…”

He finally grabbed the box and tore it open with his teeth, snatching a packet and opening it carefully.

“Wait, is it even good? Don’t those expire?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine, I bought it last Friday,” he muttered, sliding it on and thinking to himself, that’s one thing off my bucket list, using these things for the intended purpose.

She made a choked noise. “Last Fri— _why_?”

He laughed helplessly. “Dunno, Twig, wishful thinking maybe!”

She snatched the box from him. “This is an XL.”

He blinked at her. “Uh, yeah.”

She gave him _a look._ “Really.”

He frowned at her suddenly and it _wasn’t_ helping. “Hey, I know my dick, ok!?”

“I’m sure you do!” she cackled.

“Har, har,” he said mirthlessly, “Miss ‘oh shit, a dick’!”

“Yes, cherry boy, and you just saw your first live vagina – if you can even see in the dark, heh.”

“I’ve seen more than you’ve seen dicks.”

“Walking in on me getting changed does not count.”

He opened his mouth to counter but then his cock reminded him that he could be doing a lot better things than arguing with her, as fun as that was. He pinned her to the bed with a kiss and his hands ran from her wrists to her shoulders and then braced against the bed again.

“Try and relax, um, ok?” he muttered, looking down on her.

“R-right…” she said, squirming under him and taking a deep breath. Her legs were half-spread around his knees. “Just… don’t rush.”

It was hard to do that because everything in him screamed to just take the plunge and the evil little voice in the back of his head was even more sinister; it called, however vaguely, for conquest, for dominance, maybe even blood! And yet… he couldn’t listen, watching her try to compose herself under him with his throbbing shaft against her sensitive lips.

 _Shut up, ya little edgelord,_ Dante thought.

“Gotcha…” he said, trying to sound reassuring.

He used his hand to grip his dick and slowly and carefully guided it at her entrance then pushed it in carefully. He gulped a bit – the sensation caught him a little unprepared. It was so… thick and pliable and soft and warm and wet that he had a brief moment where his brain felt like it shut down.

“T-tight,” he blurted and his gaze snapped up at her. “Wait—does it hurt?”

Tess looked a bit dazed with her mouth hanging open and her hands were gripping the pillow on either side of her head. She shook her head. “N-no, actually…” she uttered. “I-it’s kind of weird—“

She squirmed a bit and let a little moan as the motion pushed him in a bit further. “G-go on…” she gasped.

It was torture and he found it hard to maintain his amused demeanor with those thick walls enveloping him lovingly. His muscles were tense, trying to cope with the urge of rushing in. He grunted quietly and moved; slow thrusts to ease them both in. He mumbled some confused expletives. It felt so good. Her hands were shaking, closed around handfuls of the pillow and the sheet under them. He sank to his elbows over her, just thrusting gradually faster because he couldn’t help himself. Her arms closed around his neck and her legs bent to his sides, her pelvis rocking with his rhythm.

He nuzzled her neck, dragging his tongue along it and nipping it softly. He just about purred, it felt that good and she smelled so delicious—he tried to keep his mind from those thoughts but cruelly, perhaps, his demonic side was starting to tug very badly at him. He grabbed a fistful of sheet and groaned against her skin.

“F-faster…” she choked out.

A low whine rumbled from his chest because he really wasn’t sure he ought to give in to his urges and her pleads. He got carried away with his stupid strength sometimes and he really did not want this to be one of those. His thighs ached and his loins were on fire. He was about to peak and knew it was too soon but he couldn’t stop. He bit softly on the soft skin of the crook of her neck and fumbled with her legs. He hooked his hands under her knees. She yelped when he pushed them up and thrust harder, driving his dick deeper and groaning; it felt so good, buried in her. Instinct and selfishness grabbed the wheel and he pound into her hard and fast, feeling the rising pressure that heralded his climax.

“Ah… _shit_ —T-Tess,” he babbled guiltily. “I’m… almost…!”

With his face buried in her neck, biting and licking her frantically he wasn’t sure whether she was more ecstatic or anxious – she mewled and sounded unable to put two words together. He sucked in air through his teeth when her nails dug into his back faintly and her walls squeezed down. His demonic side rebelled at the injury but not in the vengeful anger he was familiar with in combat. No, he _relished_ this.

And like that it was over. He groaned quietly and after a few slower thrusts he buried himself in her. His entire pelvis hurt with tension and his cock throbbed painfully. He climaxed with a throaty whine, half-ecstatic and half-disappointed in his goddamn inability to just hold on a bit longer. She twitched and panted under him, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. She sounded a quiet, sad little sound and squirmed, evidently unsatisfied.

_Well that won’t do._

As worn from his exertions as he felt, his ego wouldn’t tolerate that. Heck even his demonic instincts chided him, how dare he _not_ leave her a wet, blubbering mess who knew who her master was?

_Again, chill down edgelord! But it’s not a bad idea…_

“Now it’s your turn,” he chuckled darkly and pushed off her then carefully drew himself out of her and discarded the condom by tossing it into the dustbin next to his bed with ridiculous accuracy.

She pushed herself on her elbows and stared at him. “Huh?”

He forced his arms under her thighs and heaved, lifting her pelvis off the mattress, dragging her close and spreading her legs.

“Wh-wha—whoa what are you… doing?!” she yelped.

She weakly tried to reach up and cover herself with her hands but he brushed them away. Now was the time he truly appreciated his demonic-enhanced senses and even relished how much they affected him. If she smelled good before, now she smelled even more delicious; there was her own scent, the mix of nighttime, cinders and bitter herbs but mingled with arousal and _his_ scent. And the sight that greeted him was so _juicy._

“Hang on, wha--!”

He licked his lips, craned his neck down and dragged his tongue along the seam carefully. She uttered a strangled yelp in response and her legs grew tense, all the way to her balled toes. And just like he’d expected, she _was_ delicious. He savored the taste, experimentally dragging his tongue across her sex. She moaned helplessly and sank into the mattress, shaking in his arms.

“Since you approve so enthusiastically, should I continue?” he asked cheekily.

“Y-y-yes--!”

 _Full marks for enthusiasm,_ he thought.

He tried different things, using his thumb to part the puffy folds and go for the sensitive little nub that made her squeal in delight and buck against him. He seemed to hit a sweet spot because she then mewled and almost shut her legs. Happy to be of service, he tried sucking on the nub and got another moan for his trouble before she brought her hand to her mouth and seemingly bit down on her fingers to try and cope with the overstimulation. He finally gave in and carefully sank two fingers into her, getting another wet moan and a full-body spasm. He actually grinned a little at how wet and plump it felt. He moved a bit, lowering her body into his lap so he’d get better leverage and thrust his fingers fast and happily teasing her with his tongue.

It proved too much for the poor little ginger and he _felt_ her peak as her walls constricted around his fingers and her back arched along with the ragged scream of pleasure she made. Good thing they were alone. She slumped in his hold and he withdrew his fingers to carefully lay her down and crawled up beside her, drawing the covers over them. She was panting and ran her hand over her face. They could both use a little breather.

They lay there, panting quietly for a few moments, gathering their breaths and thoughts. He was a little worried he might’ve been a little too rough on her but she sounded alright. He hugged her close and admired his handiwork on her neck and clavicle: bite-marks and future hickies.

 _Woops!_ He thought without any regret whatsoever.

“You alright?” he asked softly, kissing her forehead.

“Yeah…” she squeaked out mid-pant and exhaled deeply. She opened her eyes at last and stared at him then smiled tiredly.

He combed some tangled red hair off her face. “Never thought I’d see you like this,” he teased. “It suits ya. Sure you’re ok?”

She giggled a little and brought her hands up to caress his cheek. “I feel…giddy?” she said reluctantly. “Not sure. I never thought I’d do this… with you.”

He chuckled and let her cuddle up to him while they tried to suppress some awkward giggles. Then her hands combed through his hair and his throat responded with a low, breathy _purr_ like a demented cat.

“What the heck is that?” she chuckled.

“I don’t know what’s doing it!” he snorted. “It’s like my throat’s… vibrating.”

“You’re _purring!”_   Tess squeaked in delighted amazement. “You’re an overgrown cat!”

He smiled wryly at her giggles and absently smacked her butt softly. “Yeah, great. Another weird-ass demon trait, I guess.”

“This is a great occult discovery!” Tess hooted. “Demon boys purr when they’re feeling cuddly!”

“If you tell anyone, I will kick your ass from here to the next state, Twig!” he snapped, but was smirking.

“Hell no, then I’d have to disclose _how_ I made the discovery!” she giggled.

He snorted and hugged her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toldya they'd fuck C:
> 
> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;) YES I PROMISE.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go to sleep. This chapter will be here when you get up. Panda's honor.

As nice as it was to cuddle with Tess, Dante was still unsatisfied. His dick was stirring from the sensory overload, the scent of their fun, the memory of how her skin tasted, the sound of her giggle, the way her skin felt under his hands and the contact of their bodies. It all meshed together to a heady mix that was too much for his more demonic instincts. Always greedy, always wanting more.

He swallowed hard; surely, she’d be tired.

“Hey… you tired?” he asked softly.

Tess looked up at him, face red and she caught her lip between her teeth momentarily. She seemed to be hesitating and then she finally brought her hand up and nervously chewed on her nails, embarrassed.

“Um, not… yet” she muttered. “I still feel, um… horny,” she squeaked out. “Could you… lie back for a sec?”

Dante blinked at her for a moment but then blurted a chuckle. She was cute. Always bluntly honest but he didn’t think she’d be this forward in a situation like this. It was refreshing, fearless and he liked it. He reached up and drew her into a kiss, enjoying the surprised little sound she made; his mouth must still have tasted like her.

“Yes m’am,” he said cheekily and lay back on his elbows.

She crawled over him and awkwardly straddled his legs and then yanked the blanket over her shoulders – fun or no fun, she’d always be cold. It was a nice feeling, not to mention a nice sight, her on top of him, and he smiled cheekily. She closed her hand around his shaft and stroked it experimentally, teasing the tip with her thumb. It was still slick and slippery and her hand glided easily over it. He sighed quietly; she had slender, delicate fingers and although she was fumbling, it was quite arousing to watch her figure out what to do. He was surprised when she tentatively leaned in and ran the tip of her tongue over the tip of his shaft slowly and then peeked up at him curiously.

He just stared at her in fascination. This was the last thing he’d expected her to do! Her tongue had been warm and slick and he thought it almost made his cock jump up in attention. Her face, already flushed, seemed to get redder.

“You’ve got some interesting ideas, Twig,” he teased her.

“Shut up, I’ve seen porn too,” she chortled.

Honestly, though, he was delighted to see her take the initiative and murmured a moan of pleasure at the feel of her tentative caresses. He found it fascinating to watch her and gently stroked her hair, combing it away from her face to better admire her. Her fingers started softly and steadily grew firmer and more confident as she paid attention to his reactions. Her tongue added to the attentions and he blurted a louder groan when it teased the tip before her lips mock-nipped it. She dragged her tongue along the length and then pulled away, leaving him wanting more.

Either the whole situation was getting to his head or he was unusually sensitive because he really was responding pretty evidently. He felt the evil little voice in the back of his head demanding he take control but he was enjoying himself too much to do so.

“Having fun?” he asked her quietly and then hissed as she stroked a little more firmly, causing his pelvis to arch up into her hand greedily.

She chuckled. “Mostly watching you react. It’s cute to see you lose it a bit,” she teased.

“I’m not… losing it.”

Yeah, and that wasn’t a hitch in his voice from a particular way her mouth moved over the tip. Her tongue circled around it slowly and she sucked it a little, like a girl enjoying a popsicle on a hot day. He bit his lip and fought back a groan because holy shit that felt good and his dick got harder as she stroked it. She must have felt something twitch because she giggled quietly and he grimaced, irritated he was playing into her hands – quite literally, finding it hard to stop his hips from moving to grind into her hand. He resisted the urge to tackle her into the bed and get back at her. Pretty soon he couldn’t help it anymore.

“Tess…” he _pleaded_ , to his surprise.

She stopped and looked up at him, both arms braced on the bed. She looked embarrassed, her legs fidgeting and her eyes had a hard time staying focused on his. “Can I… be on top this time?”

He blinked and then smiled. He was starting to love her boldness. “Go for it,” he said and coaxed her up to kiss her, caressing her cheek with his thumb as his hand cupped it.

She was smiling as she moved to get on top, her knees braced on either side of him. She had to fumble with the stupid blanket because when she tried to just let it slide off she started to shiver after a few seconds. They opened another condom and Dante carefully slipped it on. Even so, he inhaled through his teeth as her core settled over his dick and she ground a little against him, teasing them both. She moaned quietly and rocked her pelvis slowly.

Dante exhaled and watched as she moved slowly; he placed his hands on her legs, dragging them up from her knees to her thighs, caressing them firmly, squeezing her ass and relishing the soft yield. Then his hands wandered up her sides to her breasts. He cupped his hands over them, squeezed softly and teased her nipples with pinching motions, watching her. She cooed and moaned softly and pressed more firmly against him. He was almost painfully stiff under her weight but her warm slick folds felt amazing, moving back and forth against him.

She stopped once or twice, shivering and took a deep breath, as though dizzy. He smiled then subtly cupped her ass with both hands and ground against her himself, getting a low moan from her and a small, accusing glare.

“Just ride me, Twig,” he dared her, grinning.

Tess growled quietly at him but pushed herself up and using her hand, carefully guided him back into her. He sighed; he was almost sure she felt tighter now – otherwise they were just both far more sensitive. He groaned quietly and she joined him as she lowered herself carefully until he was fully in her and their bodies were flush against each other. They were both breathing a little hard at that point and they chuckled awkwardly, staring at each other.

“Wow… I think it’s… throbbing,” she muttered.

He smiled slyly at her, suppressing a chuckle. They took a moment to fumble a bit with their position for mutual comfort. She braced properly and he bent his legs a bit for her to get leverage and grabbed her buttocks. She started to move and after a few moments, he couldn’t help himself and began thrusting deeply into her at a steady pace, panting quietly. He loved the sound of his pelvis smacking into her.

She moved along with the thrusts, pulling up as he pulled back and then letting herself get pulled down against him. Her thighs swayed under his hands and he bit his lip at how lovely that was. She pressed her hands against his chest as she bounced over him with increasingly louder moans. He watched her struggle to keep the pace and she crumbled down against him, her chest pressed on his. With every move, her stiff nipples rubbed against his chest. He hissed when she squeezed around him, almost sucking him back in with every stroke.

_Oh now this won’t do…_

He was not yet satisfied and his hands squeezed her butt then he gave her a light smack. She yelped and reared back up just to get coaxed down with a hand around the back of her head. They kissed and he nibbled her lip gently and whispered: “Don’t give up yet, I’m not gonna be so quick to the trigger this time.”

She cooed a bit and braced her arms on his chest to move again and he helped her along, arching his hips to thrust harder. She stayed pressed against him but moving and he breathed hard into her neck. Almost every move made her moan and she seemed to not care that he was being a little rough. He couldn’t help it, her walls hugged him so snugly and yet so slick that it was impossible to resist and he nipped at her neck and shoulders while caressing her thighs. He didn’t bother to hide the moans rumbling out of his throat. She knotted her fingers into his hair and he purred at the feeling, happily responding when she kissed him, nipping at his lips. He was getting close to his peak and he grinned wickedly.

“Ah… shit, I’m close…” she yelped.

“Good,” he gritted out.

Neither lasted too long after that, he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck, biting her a little bit as he resisted the urge to moan too loudly. He ran his hand along her back, up her shoulder and down her arm. Their fingers twined together tightly. Her swaying grew syncopated and his thrusts hard and fast until she pushed off him and arched as she peaked with a ragged, wet scream that seemed to surprised her as much as it did him. Her legs shivered around him. He slapped his hands on her thighs and pumped his hips a few more times before his body was wracked by tension and he rumbled out a groan of satisfaction and relief. It felt so good, buried inside her as she came undone around him.

They both seemed unable to move for a while, just trying to breathe. Her palms were pressed on his chest and she hunched over, her shoulders heaving and her hair had tumbled all around her face. Dante reached out and sliding his hands up her arms helped her tense limbs relax and slowly tugged her down to lie on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead while she made an embarrassed little noise and tucked her face in his neck. He reached out and tugged the blankets over her then rubbed her back slowly.

They stayed like that for a while until they had both recovered.

“I need to stop screaming like that…” she muttered.

“Hell no,” he snickered. “That’s the best part,” he insisted as she grumbled into his neck.

He patted her butt and grinned at her irritated little growl. He was now pretty certain that he was quite fond of her ass and how good it felt.

He caressed her hair. “That was good, for your first cowgirl attempt,” he teased a little.

“They seriously call it that?” she chuckled.

“Yup,” he affirmed.

They said nothing for a while, just basking in the afterglow and the warm, comfortable exhaustion that overtook them. As tempting as it was to fall asleep like that, they both knew better when they got uncomfortable. Tess carefully pushed up off him and rolled to the side.

“Oh shit—“

“No way—“

Dante hurriedly snatched some tissues from the box next to his bed and wiped himself down before wrapping the damaged condom up in haste. They both exchanged identical expressions of horror.

“Fuck,” he blurted. “Now what?” he added, terrified to just come out with it.

 _Whatever you do, don’t panic!_ He ordered himself.

Tess got really squirrely and bit her lips together, fidgeting and started to nervously curl some of her hair around her finger while her eyes darted aside repeatedly. “Um… uh… w-well…” she stuttered.

“What?” he asked. “Come on, don’t start that now, we’re dead if—“

She covered her face with her hands. “It’s really embarrassing!” she muttered. “D-don’t laugh. And don’t freak out!”

He _was_ edging a little towards panic. “I won’t! Just say it!”

She didn’t take her hands off her face. “I’ve… um, been on the pill for two years,” she whimpered. “Period shit and all, it helps.”

Dante blinked, processing her statement for a few moments but then he sighed deeply, hanging his head in relief. “That’s good! Are you sure it’s okay, though?”

She finally peeked from between her fingers, chuckling nervously. “Yeah, I think so,” she muttered.

They huddled under the covers, snickering in relief. “The last thing the world needed was whatever we’d produce,” he blurted.

“Shit, don’t even say that,” Tess snorted. “Probably the herald of chaos or something.”

Dante hooted. “A terror for demons and witches alike.”

“A terror fullstop. Assuming we both lived long enough – Roy and Grams would’ve murdered us well before that,” Tess scoffed.

“No kidding,” he nodded. Then he had a funny thought and laughed out loud, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Hey, I just realized, didn’t you say wiccans were kinda scared of Sparda?”

“Something like that. I mean they were allies but he scared them?” she said, confused.

Dante laughed harder. “Then you’re like, a legend among witches now, Twig. You banged Sparda’s son!”

Tess blinked, still confused but then his meaning seemed to dawn on her and she started to laugh too. “Oh shit, true! And not only did I bang Sparda’s son, I popped his goddamn cherry!!” she cackled.

“Wait wait, I guess that also means I ravished a witch, doesn’t that mean they were right to be afraid?” he asked and she laughed harder. “I mean that’s gotta be like, How to Demon 101 isn’t it?”

“Nah, you weren’t nasty enough,” she giggled. “But you can always brag you banged a witch and got away with it.”

“I’ll take that!”

“We’re awful,” Tess snickered. “Someone needs to lock us up for life.”

“Speak for yourself, I thought witches liked being wicked.”

“Wicked yes, but this was downright bad,” she giggled.

He pushed up a little on his elbow and looked at her. “Do you regret it?”

She looked back and smiled. “Not a bit.”

“Good, me either.”

He flopped back down and they adjusted the covers over them, tired and ready to just relax. He heard her already half-dozing, judging by her breathing. Tess cuddled right up to him and yawned.

“You’re kind of like a cat when you’re tired,” he grinned.

“Shut uuuup…” she squeaked but then sighed and rubbed her cheek into his shoulder. “I think I’m just… gonna crash. Oh and… this doesn’t mean you can come into my room without knocking.”

He managed to sound mournful. “Aww, but I was planning some more surprise visits.”

“Tough,” she snorted sleepily. “Goodnight, Schnozz.”

Dante scoffed quietly and yawned. Sleep sounded good. “’Night, Twig…” he mumbled just before he dozed off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh they aren't done...

Tess woke up with a start at the loud noise – it took her a second or two to identify it as a large truck or other such vehicle trundling down the street. For a moment she was confused, but then she reminded herself that she was in Dante’s room. And Dante’s room faced the street, unlike hers. She lifted her head off the pillow sleepily; they were curled up under the covers and quite deliciously warm and cozy. She could honestly stay like that all day if allowed. She glanced over at the window. The sky seemed clearer than yesterday and there was actually some sunlight. If vehicles were using the streets, then the worst of the snowstorm ought to be over. She smiled and rested her head on Dante’s chest and fought back a wider smile and her face getting hot as she ran over what they’d done last night.

A moment later she opened her eyes again and sniffed a little tentatively. Oh yup, she wasn’t imagining it.

 _Wow. We uh… need a bath. Like, yesterday,_ she thought. _And we_ definitely _need to wash… or burn the covers._

She turned her head and looked upwards towards him. He was still sleeping soundly, even snoring a little without a care in the world. She felt bad having to wake him up but she craned her neck and kissed his chin.

No reaction.

She raised an eyebrow and squirmed a little, propping herself up on her elbow. She kissed his cheek, then the tip of his nose. His nose wrinkled a little and he mumbled. That was all, though. She sighed and patted his cheek with a pout.

“Wake up,” she said softly. “We’ve got a little problem.”

He groaned some incoherent nonsense and growled from the back of his throat groggily, turning his head the other way without opening his eyes.

“Ge’outta m’room Twig…” he mumbled, taking a deep breath and rolling over to pin her under his arm. Then a second later he started awake, his eyes peeled open and he blinked at her, dazed. “Wait, no—oh right…” he blurted. “Five more minutes…” he added, tugging her closer and burying his face into the pillow.

Tess chuckled ruefully as she was pinned against him and jostled him a little. “No, come ooon!” she scoffed. “We need to shower. And food! Breakfast after that – or lunch, I think it’s super late. Come on, remember food?”

Dante grumbled a bit and snickered in the pillow then turned and looked at her. “…Food’s good,” he said and yawned with a throaty grunt at the end.

He rolled over and stretched luxuriously, then rubbed his eyes a bit and finally opened them wide, sitting up and looking at her. “Love the morning hair, by the way,” he smirked.

Tess chuckled, still huddled in the blankets, and combed her fingers through the veritable tangle of her hair. “Heh, thanks.”

Dante looked around idly, picking up his clock. “Whew, 11:30. We’re sleeping the day away.” He put it down and blinked, staring at the door. “Huh… I think the power’s back on. I can hear the TV on downstairs.”

Tess sat up too. “Really?! That’s good, I think I forgot the heater switch on downstairs so it should be warm and we ought to have plenty of hot water. We need shower. You wanna go first?”

Dante stretched his arms over his head, twining his fingers together and chuckled after a yawn. “Eh, that’ll take ages. Let’s just go together.”

Tess blinked at him, ascertaining that she had indeed heard correctly. He stood up and yawned viciously again, flexing his shoulders – he didn’t care one bit that he was naked. Tess stared at his butt and smiled, then bit her lip. Now in the light of day she could truly appreciate him; his muscles, all nervous strength, tensed and flexed in plain sight and he scratched the back of his head vigorously. She then chided herself; after last night, why on earth was she embarrassed!?

She slid out of bed but snatched the bedsheets to cover herself – they were going to toss the sheets in the laundry anyway. “S-sure.”

He smirked at her. “Heh, still nervous?” he said cheekily, picking his pants up from the floor.

“No. Why would I?” she lied, sticking her tongue out at him playfully, collecting her sweater and shorts.

“I’ve told ya before, Twig: You love me. That’s why!” he said smugly and held his arms out, turning around to face her.

She rolled her eyes at him with an indulgent smirk. “Yes, yes, so you’ve said,” she said vaguely and sailed past him out of the room.

She made a point of ignoring how sticky her thighs felt.

He was right, the power must have come back on sometime in the night or morning because the hallway lights were lit and she too could hear the TV faintly from downstairs.

Dante paused and glanced out the hallway window. “Huh, it’s pretty sunny now. Blizzard must be over.”

“Oh good,” Tess sighed. “We’re probably gonna have to dig ourselves out and go get some food later.”

She walked in the bathroom first and flicked the light on, dumping the sheets into the linen laundry basket. Dante turned the shower tap and assured her there was in fact plenty of hot water, so Tess fetched towels from the linen cabinet. Then she gingerly stepped into the shower and grinned at him mischievously.

“Well, come on then.”

“What are     _you_      smiling at?” he chuckled as he stepped in.

They squeezed together under the showerhead. “Oooh, that feels good,” she groaned at the hot water.

“Does it, now?” Dante said cheekily.

He pressed right up against her from behind, hugging her, to get under the hot water too… and promptly let out a grunt that indicated that yes, indeed, he agreed with her assessment. Tess bit her lips and chuckled a little; the hot water made it hard to tell if her face was heating up.

“Hmm… I wonder…” Dante muttered and without any explanations, craned his neck over her shoulder and reached down.

He dragged his fingers across her stomach and boldly sneaked them between her legs gently. Tess yelped and bucked into him when he made contact. Her spine tingled.

“Wait a sec—“ she said.

He snickered and held her against him, softly running his fingers along the seam and she bit her lip and cooed because it felt good, his warm fingers and the hot water running along his arm and over her skin. His other hand crept up and cupped her breast, tweaking the nipple slowly between two fingers. His fingers teased her clit and then slowly dipped in and she suddenly had to lean forward and brace against the wall with one arm because her knees felt like jelly.

“Woops,” he said quietly and didn’t sound sorry at all. “You’re pretty damn sensitive now.”

“Jerk,” she mumbled.

He didn’t stop, his fingers tracing a now practiced dance across her sensitive labia and clit and he kissed the nape of her neck then nipped on her shoulder – she should’ve checked in the mirror, she was _sure_ the ass had given her hickeys, she had to go find that turtle-neck sweater or Roy was gonna murder them—

“Not fair…” she grumbled. “We were supposed to be washing up,” she chuckled, feigning high accusation.

“I’d be dumb to miss this chance,” he breathed in her ear.

Her shoulders hunched a bit and she gulped and felt her body grow tense as his fingers continued their sweet torment. He pressed up closer against her and teased her nipples sweetly – his hands worked with a kind of knowing that scared her a bit. Was he lying about this being his first? For a moment she began to consider if he was somehow ‘translating’ the absurdly fast way he learned waltz and his skill with weapons to this and then her mind went blank because she felt his dick growing erect and pressing itself between her thighs. She tried to hold it back but eventually a moan escaped her and he simpered in triumph as she squirmed.

Fed up with being teased within an inch of her life, she squirmed, strategically pressing her butt against his crotch and heard him inhale sharply even as he continued to tease her. Her walls squeezed around his fingers lovingly and she cooed to realize how wet she was getting. The feeling of his shaft getting harder against her ass wasn’t helping.

“You’re… terrible,” she breathed. “Taking advantage.”

“I have no regrets,” he replied in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You sound like you like it.”

She started to retort but he shushed her by resuming his attentions with careful, circular caresses and cupping her breasts. Tess stared down at his hands; they were big, warm and somewhat calloused – likely from years of using gun and sword and his rough life, to the point where his unnatural healing seemed to have given up. But what bothered her more was how much she was responding. Was it that it was all still new sensations to her or was the dork just that good with his hands? It bothered her!

She lost that train of thought when his fingers caressed her just right while he leaned in and nibbled on her earlobe. Tess shivered and bucked a little in his hold, her walls contracting around his fingers as he tried different spots to tease. At the same time he ground into her, huffing as his dick rubbed between her butt-cheeks and he pressed against her. Her delight was matched with her frustration at how easily he was getting her aroused.

“No need to hold back,” he purred.

She tried to stifle it but the sudden stimulation made her buck again and she actually moaned, tossing her head back… and bonking him slightly on the nose.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry!” she groaned, humiliated. “Jeez, the universe _really_ has it out for your nose!”

She looked over her shoulder at him rubbing his nose gingerly.

“Well to be fair, I put my nose in the line of fire this time,” he chuckled.

“Want me to kiss it better?” she chuckled.

He grinned. “Be my guest.”

She turned around and reached up with one arm, drawing him down for a kiss and leaning into him, thinking to give him a taste of his own medicine by rubbing up against him. But her foot slipped on the mat which skidded on the slick shower floor and she ended up propelling herself forward. She knocked her face into his chest and Dante yelped as the skid of the mat sent him backwards. Tess wasn’t certain but they _both_ flailed awkwardly and then Dante groaned as his back hit the wall and he caught her before she went down, banging his elbow in the process.

“Oh my shit…” Tess wheezed.

“I think we can agree that shower sex is probably an extreme sport,” Dante commented.

She groaned, smirking. “No kidding… But it’s nice and warm.”

“Didn’t say we had to leave.”

They grabbed some spare towels to throw on the floor for extra traction and then finally got to kiss a little. His hands immediately reached down to her ass but he was focused on kissing her, lips playing together smoothly and tongues teasing each other. Sneakily, she moved her hand down and he groaned lowly as her hand closed around his cock and she started to stroke it slowly. The water made them both pretty slick and it was nice, pleasant feeling. He inhaled sharply as she flicked her thumb over the tip and she grinned. It was nice to watch him squirm.

“Hey uh…” he muttered. “Do you… wanna try… turning around?”

She looked at him questioningly for a moment and fought a smile. He was blushing! But he also looked so… vulnerable, like he was afraid of rejection. She pursed her lips thoughtfully but then an idea occurred to her that made her squirm with trepidation.

“You mean…”

She pulled away and turned around, bracing herself against the wall and stuck her butt out towards him.

“Like… this?”

She looked over her shoulder and almost broke down laughing. He stared straight down at her butt, both lost in admiration and sporting a kind of look like either a starved man or someone in deep re-examination of everything he knows in his life. His gaze travelled up to meet hers and he seemed entirely aware of how stupefied he was. He stepped forward and hugged her.

“Now who’s terrible, Twig?” he grunted. “How can I say no to that?”

She giggled a little. “Suits you right.”

Then his hands slid down to her hips and his cock pressed teasingly between her cheeks, rubbing slow and deliberate. And a bit too high up.

“Hey um…” she started.

He trailed a finger down her spine, sending tingles along her skin. “Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

She looked over her shoulder, feeling somewhat panicked. “What do you mean, _where?!”_ she blurted. “Don’t screw around—“ 

She squeaked because his tip poked her butt boldly and he favored her with a shit-eating grin and a soft smack of her butt.

“So, anywhere I want?” he asked, still feigning innocence.

She panicked. She shook her head vigorously and babbled. “Hey! N-no! That—seriously stop it—“ she quavered as the tip pressed against it. “Really, I mean it you jerk, not that—“

The pressure retreated immediately and he leaned in, hugging her again and chuckling. “Sorry Twig. Just messing with you,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re cute when you get flustered and angry.”

“Bastard…” she grumbled as he thrust slowly into her core with a firm grip on her hips. 

He started to move slow, letting her savor the feeling that was augmented by the trickle of the water over her; it flowed over her back, down her body and over her shoulders, streaming off her breasts in a warm, slick caress. Soon enough his pace increased and she moaned at the quiet noises that resulted from their bodies making contact. He leaned in so his chest was flush against her back and nuzzled her neck after sweeping aside her hair. He breathed hard and she rocked her pelvis back against him eagerly.

A moment or so later she felt her walls squeezing him and groaned. “F-faster…”

He blurted a surprised but happy chortle and obliged, pinning her against the wall and his hips sped up, grinding against her now and then. His breathing was fast and shallow and she heard him sigh with delight before he kissed her back. Dante moved with a hungry need and his hands slid up over her sides and caressed her breasts, teasing the nipples between his fingers. His kisses travelled up her back and he happily nipped her shoulder and along to her neck, making her breathing shaky. Tess ground herself into him, his thrusts slowing on occasion to relish the feeling before he resumed moving.

She squeaked out a moan and bit her lip as tingling warmth spread through her body and she felt the weight of a climax creeping up on her. He gave her skin a brief reprieve from the nipping and kissing to whisper in her ear.

“You’re close…” he observed wickedly.

She squirmed, embarrassed; was it that bloody obvious? “Y-yeah…”

He just groaned and she _heard_ the smile playing on his lips as his hand slid up her arm to lock fingers with hers. He maintained the rough thrusts till her walls started to squeeze tighter around him. She felt every move, every twitch inside her and the intense pull of pleasure dragged her over the edge. She climaxed with a loud moan of delight and just as his thrusts grew slower and more intense, he groaned helplessly and with what sounded like great effort, he pulled out of her and just hugged her tight.

They stayed like that, pressed against the warm, slick wall of the shower with nothing but the running water and their shallow breathing in the soothing steam. With little prompting he let her go and she turned around to wrap her arms around his neck and nuzzle his neck then kissed him.

“I think… we better cut it out now,” she giggled. “Or we’re never gonna be done.”

Dante chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers. “Heh, probably right, Twig,” he said, sweeping wet hair off his forehead. “I’ll do you if you do me?”

She chuckled. “Hah, okay.”

They reluctantly parted and started to wash themselves, sometimes snickering at stolen gropes and touches that weren’t exactly scrubbing. Tess almost broke down laughing when he interrupted his scrubbing her back to slide his soapy hands around the front and cup her breasts. She later resisted the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when she scrubbed Dante’s back, just enjoying the feel and sight of his muscles. He laughed when she smacked his butt playfully. Then she eyed his hair.

“Hmm, might as well wash our hair too,” she said, grabbing the shampoo bottle from the shelf. “Sit down, you’re way too tall.”

He quirked his eyebrow quizzically at her for a moment, then did as told, grabbing the small plastic stool from outside the shower and sitting down. She applied some shampoo to her hands and gingerly started to massage and scrub his scalp. He blurted a laugh and then hummed a bit in a way that let her know he liked it. She smiled; it was nice to get her fingers in his hair…

“Hey, don’t get it in my eyes,” he yelped, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes.

“What are you, five?” she snickered.

She rinsed him out and ruffled his hair when all the suds were out. “There we go, all white and fluffy,” she teased.

“That was fun,” he said thoughtfully, opening his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone do that.”

She bit her lip a little. “Was it wrong of me?”

He shook his head and stood up. “Nah, just felt new. My turn,” he said and took the shampoo from her.

Tess had to keep herself from giggling because he was so awkward with the whole thing, trying to avoid tangling her hair or pulling on it accidentally. It took him a while to get it done.

“Problems?” she teased.

“Shut up, I don’t know how people deal with longer hair,” he scoffed. “I never let mine get too long, it’s a hassle.”

“Start practicing then!” she snickered.

He massaged her scalp gently and she almost sighed in delight because his fingers were so good… but then he said something that sounded like it had been on his mind.

“You… wanna keep doing this, right?” he asked quietly.

She blinked and her smile shrank a little. On one hand, it was a thought that should’ve crossed her mind sooner: What on earth _were_ they doing? What was this? On the other hand… it was endearing to listen to the normally cocky and reckless young demon hunter get all awkward like that. Like… well, sounding his age. It made her happy in a way, but at the same time it reminded her of the harsh reality of their lives: Both of them had more contact with the dangers of the supernatural than they did with people and normalcy.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I mean… I don’t know what we’re doing exactly but… but it feels good.”

He paused, his hands motionless between wet locks of her hair and Tess was afraid she might’ve dropped some bomb that might make him reconsider what they were doing.

Instead, he reached down and hugged her from behind. “So…does that mean… you’re _mine,_ now?”

He said it with such awkwardness that for a moment, Tess thought there was someone else talking. Mine. For such a small word it sounded colossal. It carried so much. Hopes and fears all together. It stirred fears in _her—_ of things that happen to witches who get in too deep with demons. But then it stirred something else, a longing to buck those fears and just… be.

“I…don’t know,” she said cautiously. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Even when I liked someone, I could never tell them what I am.”

He hugged her tighter. “I never had anyone,” he confessed quietly. “I dunno. I push people away. Or they _run_ away. I’ve never thought about it, I just… let it happen.”

She could see how that could happen. Dante’s life, as far as she understood, had been far too full of violence, encounters with demons and survival. It followed him seemingly everywhere he went. Tess had always suspected that people without any supernatural connection still had an instinct. Call it survival instinct, even. It would tell them when something was very off about a certain individual. And they may never realize quite why they kept away. That was likely why she could never get too close with any ordinary person either – her icy cautiousness and snappish attitude certainly never helped.

Dante paused for a moment, then added: “You’re…different. In the weird, you-don’t-know-what-you’re-doing kind of way. And you’re not scared. I kinda like that.”

Tess didn’t know what to make of that one. She put her hand up and over his.

Suddenly Dante breathed out. “So uh, I think we might be getting ahead of ourselves, here…”

She blinked and snapped out of the reverie. “You’re right, let’s just rinse off and—“

She turned around to tilt her head back and rinse the water off and they just sort of stared at each other for a moment. To her shock, his face was a little red and she felt her own face rather hot. Quietly they gravitated towards each other…

…and then the shower-head suddenly started giving out frigid water. Not just cold, but _properly_ frozen.

“ _Eeeek_!”

“ _Gah_ —shit!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My poor summer fools.

They had scrambled out of the shower when the water turned icy. They had cursed. They had glared at the offending piece of plumbing while wrapping up in towels. And they had shivered their stupid little butts off.

Tess stayed behind to rinse out her hair in the sink, squeaking at the cold water, while Dante went to get dressed. He fumed a little while pulling on his trousers, after fishing them out of the back end of the drawer. Dante cursed his rotten luck yet again. Couldn’t he even get a little kiss in peace?!

Well… to be fair, he’d gotten a lot more these last couple of days.

After putting on a shirt and shoes he glanced at the bed. He couldn’t help a small, rather silly smile. It would be so hard to keep from crowing about this. Not like he could tell anyone. Roy and Magda _would_ kill them both if they caught wind of their shenanigans. He stretched, glancing out the window and yawning. As far as he could see, everything seemed to be covered in a sheet of fluffy powder snow from the blizzard of the last few days. Now it glistened in the weak sun and looked rather deceptively inviting. Still, he didn’t want to think about all the work waiting for them to dig out the doorway again.

He went downstairs and going in the lounge, turned off the TV sheepishly. Just when he was wondering what kind of edibles they could conjure now that they had power, Tess came downstairs too. She came through the door, dressed in jeans and a black ribbed sweater with a turtle neck, and in the process of pulling her still damp hair up loosely with a clip.

He smirked a bit at the sweater. Clearly she was trying to hide the hickeys and bite marks he’d left on her neck. He had a brief, but intense, moment of wanting to go over and rip the turtle-neck off the sweater so everyone could see the little marks that declared her… what? His?

_Mine._

He chewed on his lip briefly. That was a big word all of a sudden.

“Hey, looks like we should be able to walk somewhere nearby,” she said. “Feel like a pizza? I just can’t deal with all this mess we made yet,” she added, chuckling at the pillow fort and the fireplace and the dirty dishes in the sink.

Dante beamed at her. “Do I ever say no to pizza? Sure.”

She chuckled. “Of course.”  

But after he’d thrown on his coat and Tess had wrapped herself up enough and they opened the door, they stopped and groaned.

Apparently a snowplow truck had been by and the street was clear and easy to navigate…but a large amount of snow and slush had been dumped right in front of the door, covering the stairs and the door knee-deep, undoing all their hard work of a few days ago.

“We have to clean this, don’t we?” he huffed.

“Unless you don’t mind slipping when this freezes to ice and breaking your neck, yeah,” she grumbled. “Oh well, we did before, we’ll just do it again.”

This time Tess decided to discretely use a low flame to thaw and soften some of the hardened bottom layer of snow and ice when they got to it and they worked faster than they had last time. They even uncovered a bag of overlooked rock salt that Roy kept in the basement and dumped most of it over the steps in a bid to keep them from freezing over.

“Man, I can hear my stomach saying ‘feed me’!” Dante groaned when they closed the door of the basement after they put the tools back.

“Oh it’s yours? I thought it was just mine proudly proclaiming its hunger,” Tess sighed, sounding dreary. “Not too tired to walk over to the diner, I hope?”

Dante scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’d walk to Alaska with you on my back for a big pizza right about now.”

Tess hooted.

They left the building and walked along the empty street, mostly clear of snow now, with the crunch of slush and salt grit underfoot. They ran only into snow-clearing crews and the few people willing to brave the cold and snow. The air was still cold and they could both see their breath form plumes of mist that hung in the air for a brief moment every time. Dante glanced at her; Tess looked cute with her cheeks flushed from the cold, all bundled up in her grey-black jacket, the hood up and a purple scarf around her neck.

He couldn’t help a smile.

Guess knowing someone changes what you think of ‘em after all, he thought. I thought she was an icy little bitch at first. All that glaring. And now look at her.

Tess was looking at the snowcapped buildings flanking the street. “It’s so peaceful,” she sighed. “After all the shit we’ve seen it’s… a nice break.”

Her hand brushed his and feeling suddenly brave, he reached out and took it. She glanced at him curiously, then smiled and her fingers closed around his.

“Better not jinx it then,” he teased her and she made an angry little noise at him.

But her hand didn’t pull away. He fumbled as they walked. They should talk about something, right? But what—Or maybe… maybe he should kiss her. In the middle of the street. With people watching from their windows and the snowplow crew taking their break there at the corner. She’d get flustered and babble about being in public, that’d be so cute—

_SPLAT!_

A wet and cold thing came in contact with the side of his head, right on the ear and he stumbled.

“What the hell--?!” he blurted.

Tess then yelped and staggered backwards after another similar splat that came seconds after his. Dante turned around and watched half a dozen kids running up the street, shrieking with laughter and wielding snowballs. A few more flew past them but Dante ducked, pulling Tess out of the line of fire as the kids ran off. They’d just been victims of a ‘drive-by snow attack’!

“Ow, sonova…” Tess grumbled and Dante turned around to face her.

She had planted one hand on the wall adjacent to them and was rubbing her eye with the back of the other hand, her face scrunched in an annoyed and hurt way.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah… snowball got me right in the eye, though,” she griped, still rubbing her eye. “Stupid kids.”

Dante tutted dramatically and tilted her face up with his hand gently. “Let me have a look.”

Her eye was teary and a little red but it looked like there wasn’t anything wrong with it other than a little passing irritation.

“I think you’ll be okay,” he said and coolly wiped a small smudge of dirt from her cheek.

“Thanks, doctor,” she snorted.

“Do you want me to kiss you better?” he asked with an obviously teasing tone.

“Shove off,” she laughed and elbowed him again as they walked on to the diner again.

Having lunch at the diner was fun. They succeeded in talking about some perfectly ordinary things, chief among them a rather heated but still amicable argument about the merit of Guns N’ Roses, The Rolling Stones and Nirvana (Dante liked to think he’d won that one), planned an absolutely genius prank against Roy for when he’d be back and in more hushed tones discussed ways of quickly dispatching demons. Dante thoroughly enjoyed the pizza there, wolfing down one all by himself and about half of another that he shared with Tess.

He also noticed, rather amused, that Tess’ delight of sweets had not abandoned her as she dug into a large slice of chocolate cake, the house specialty apparently. It looked so scrumptious that he caved and asked for a slice too. And it was quite worth it, although not as good as hers.

Then he caught himself watching her suck a little of wayward chocolate sauce from her finger, completely innocently, and he bit his lip a little bit. He forced his mind to banish the thought of her sucking on something _else_ and beat away the sly grin it wanted to produce on his face.

On the way back, the weather felt colder. They walked shoulder to shoulder almost, hands locked together and silent for a long while. He supposed neither of them had something significant to say. Already the sky was darkening. Dante reflected on what would happen from now on.

 _We can’t possibly keep it a secret forever,_ he thought. _They’re gonna kill us—well, Roy might kill just me but still. And…I don’t care._

He was just about to ask her whether she thought there was any way they could possibly bribe Roy into taking their side when it all came crashing down when someone stepped out in front of them from an alley. The figure was tall, clad in a thick coat with the hood raised and taller than either of them. He calmly took out a rather sizable gun from his pocket and pointed it straight at them.

“Hand over your money, kids,” he said with a very calm, almost professional tone. Clearly, an experienced mugger. “Neither of you wants to be bleedin’ out on the snow tonight.”

His hood hid his features well, aided by a pair of ridiculous sunglasses but Dante smirked. Human criminals had stopped scaring him a very, very long time ago. He casually sidled in front of Tess a little.

“Whaddaya say, Twig, should we listen to the good gentleman?” he snarked.

“Certainly not,” she replied.

Without missing a beat, Dante’s hand moved too fast for the man to react; he reached into his coat, pulled out Ivory and after knocking aside the man’s handgun, planted Ivory’s muzzle to his forehead.

“Oh look!” he said cheerfully. “Mine’s bigger!”

“Fuck, the kid’s packing!”

Dante’s smile shrank. That came from _behind_ him. Thinking quickly, he clonked the guy in front of him with the butt of the gun, hard enough to produce a dull, meaty thud. It sent the mugger crumbling to the ground with a feeble groan. The young demon hunter whipped around just fast enough to catch Tess furnishing the accomplice – a smaller, leaner-looking individual, also in a hooded coat – with a kick to the balls so decisive and hard that Dante winced too in utter sympathy.

The second would-be mugger toppled over with a quiet, embarrassing squeak and his hands on his privates. Dante grabbed Tess’ hand and they both made a run for it at breakneck speed stopping only when they reached the boarding house again. They stopped in front of the door and paused to catch their breath, panting and gasping for air, all the while giggling like fools. He recovered sooner and looked at her, bent a little with her hands on her knees and her face flushed with the excitement of the scare and the subsequent run, and her hair disheveled.

She looked rather marvelous, actually.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” she gasped. “When you pulled that canon of yours to that guy’s face, I thought the other dude was going to wet himself!”

Dante scoffed wryly. “You think that’s funny, Twig? We’re lucky those idiots were slow! And you! Trying to hit a home-run with that poor shmuck’s balls?”

“ _Pfft_ , what was I supposed to do, sit back and play damsel in distress? Bullshit,” she said and shrugged it off.

That made him laugh again, but only because there was that fearlessness of hers again that he liked, the one that made him want to try and challenge it, see where exactly she’d bend. They then heard a soft noise and both looked up at the building. They saw light in the ground-floor rooms that belonged to Magda. That sobered them both up quickly.

“Oh, I guess…Grams is back,” Tess said and sounded rather defeated.

Dante sighed. Looks like their time to play around was up.

 “So… what do we do?” he ventured.

“We can’t tell either her or Roy,” she said firmly. “We’ll…just pretend it’s business as usual.”

He favored her with a wan smile. “Back to the good old bickering, eh?”

She seemed a little sad. “Well…until we think of something to tell them. Or have the house to ourselves again…”

They stared at each other and Tess bit her lips. They didn’t even know how they knew to do it but he leaned close and snaking his fingers in her hair, kissed her calmly. It was hesitant but sweet and she reciprocated; her lips nibbled on his and their tongues caressed each other briefly.

Then they parted and looked at each other but Dante could think of nothing to say. All of his wit and snark and clever comebacks had drained away into the evening. She couldn’t seem to find anything to say either and before someone from the house saw them and started asking funny questions, they trudged up the steps and went in, to resume what was only partly a charade of their usual antics.

Dante hoped, sort of hopelessly and helplessly, that they’d get another chance to play around, maybe a chance to find a way to express what he thought he wanted to feel or what he thought he was indeed feeling.

But they never did.

When you’re living a life that’s defined by tangling with demons, you cannot expect any sort of contentment to last. In a sense, they took her way. They both survived what happened, in the following weeks, all the blood and horror that came about like a stalking animal. They survived the battle they didn’t want to fight and walked away with their bodies intact. But they were scarred, a kind of scarring invisible on the outside but ever-present in its subtle pains and lasting grip.

Demons had taught Dante about loss and grief and sorrow, bathed all good memories he had in warm blood and the sound of screams. Losing Tess taught him of a kind of loss that could be worse; the pain of uncertainty.

She had to leave, in the end. When it was all said and done, when the dust settled and the blood congealed, she had to leave. Like in fairy tales, when the princess has exceeded some curfew or some wicked spell has come upon her.

But life isn’t a fairy tale and there’d be no magical solution, even for a witch. It hurt, knowing she walked away like that for both their sakes but in a way, it made him stronger. She left him a promise of hope and in the end hope is what takes root and puts you on your way forward. For over ten years she’d be lost to him and all he would have left were all those confused and jumbled thoughts that stirred because of her. Those and the question about whether there was something very pathetically human about him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no regrets. Happy Holidays, sinners. Love ya.


End file.
